Dubious Engagament
by aurrasingrules101
Summary: Jaina had always expected the life of a Jedi to call for personal sacrifices. What she hadn't expected is for that sacrifice to be marriage. JainaJag AU. TFN September '06 Story of the Month.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Jaina sat by the window, looking at the amazing metropolis that was Coruscant. Speeders whizzed by at dizzying speeds, and Jaina slowly reached out with her Jedi senses, searching through the teaming masses of life. It was a good, exercise, her Uncle Luke told her. Life was the Force, and so to get a better understanding of the Force you must understand life itself. There were so many personalities, individuals, just within a few kilometers that Jaina couldn't possibly number them all. She loved Coruscant.

Her home was plush and extravagant, nothing less than what would be expected of the children of the Chief of State. Leia Organa Solo and Han Solo didn't live with Jaina and her brothers though—that is, when they were actually on the planet. They had their own suite, several blocks closer to the Senate Hall. Her Uncle Luke had always been the primary caregiver in Jaina's life, along with Winter and See-Threepio. She rarely spoke with her parents, and saw them even less. The only communication between the parents and their children was the occasional instructions or rules, or another wave of money.

Luke Skywalker was a good uncle to Jaina. She loved him dearly, and knew that she was probably better off out of the limelight anyway. That still didn't keep out the hurt sometimes. Sure, she got presents on holidays and her birthday, but she missed the perfect family unit portrayed in the holodramas.

Not that Jacen and Anakin weren't wonderful. She loved her brothers more than she could say. They all got along splendidly, and sometimes Jaina marveled that she was so selfish as to wish for more in her amazingly wonderful life.

As she scanned the city with her mind, Jaina felt her uncle approaching. He was a Jedi Master of great power, and could be felt even in the abundant flow of life on Coruscant. She wasn't surprised at all when a knock echoed off her door. "Come in," she said jovially. She knew before he ever stepped inside that something was wrong. "What is it? What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

He sighed deeply, looking more troubled than Jaina could ever remember seeing him in all her sixteen years. "May I take a seat?" he asked, avoiding her questions.

"Of course," she said, throwing a mess of clutter off a spare chair. Jaina's room was covered in mechanical parts and snubfighter models. She had great aspirations to one day be a pilot. She had even gone so far as to try out for Rogue Squadron. She had not yet been informed as to whether or not she had made the cut.

Luke began with a wearied sigh. "I'm not sure how to tell you this. I want to start by saying I gave everything I had to try to convince your parents otherwise, but it's of no use. We have no choice."

"Uncle Luke, you're starting to scare me," Jaina whispered.

"Do you know of the problem with the Chiss?"

"Yes," Jaina said cautiously. The Chiss and New Republic had been in a Cold War of sorts for the past several years. Some were beginning to say that only an utterly binding promise from each side would ever guarantee peace and safety.

"Your mother has just negotiated a deal that will put an end to the fighting. It is one approved by both sides, and one that demonstrates a complete show of faith by both sides."

"That's wonderful! But…how does that affect me?"

Luke looked unhappier by each second that passed. "You are the deal, Jaina."

"What?" she asked, aghast. "What are you talking about?"

"The Chiss see marriages as a binding alliance, not a profession of love. If Han and Leia surrender their only daughter to the Chiss it demonstrates that they are putting complete faith in them," Luke explained.

Jaina was speechless. Was he trying to tell her that her parents had sold her off like some slave girl? "They want me to marry a Chiss?"

"There is a Baron there, a Soontir Fel. He has three sons. They have negotiated for you to marry the middle son as a symbol of faith."

Jaina sat back, stunned. "No. No, I won't do it. I'm not going off to Force-knows-where to marry a complete stranger! This is barbaric!"

"I agree," Luke said. "But I tried everything Jaina. Even Force persuasion. There's nothing we can do."

Jaina felt tears forming in her eyes. An utter sense of helplessness descended upon her. "No!" she cried. "No, Uncle Luke, don't make me!"

He gathered her comfortingly into his arms, trying to shush her. He sent soothing thoughts through the Force until they permeated the room. When she finally found a sense of calm Jaina sat up and wiped her face. "When…when are they making me leave?"

"Day after tomorrow," he said softly.

Jaina collapsed into another fit of tears and this time couldn't be silenced.

She stood at the bottom of the boarding ramp, trying to put on a brave face. "Go over all this with me one more time," she said.

Her twin, Jacen, held the datapad up and surveyed its contents for the umpteenth time. "You'll arrive at Csilla in about five days. Two days after that you get married in a small private ceremony. You won't have the big, official wedding until you come back here next year."

Jaina felt tears forming in her eyes. To keep them from coming out she used the Force to cut off the ducts to her tear glands. Anakin and Luke stood nearby, talking softly. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you, Jacen," she whispered softly.

He pulled her into a comforting embrace. "I'll always be here for you, Jaina."

"Yeah," Anakin chimed in, coming to drape an arm over his sister's shoulder. "If they do anything to you, you just call and we'll come break you out, right Jace?"

Jaina laughed in spite of herself. Luke came to join their huddle. "We're all here for you Jaina. And it may seem cliché, but Anakin's offer stands with me as well. I don't care what the Court says. If things go badly we'll come after you. That's a promise."

They all embraced, their emotions easily palpable in the Force. Jaina finally withdrew, knowing it was time to go. All her belongings were already stowed in the cargo area. A droid fluent in Chiss was being sent as well so that it might tutor her on the voyage there. As she departed, there was no need for any more words from anyone. She could read their emotions, and that spoke louder than any words.

"May I have another drink?" Jaina asked, carefully, trying to pronounce all the foreign words correctly. Chiss was a simply language, but the dialect was hard to master. She had picked it up rather easily, but her instructor droid's lessons were becoming increasingly difficult.

"How are you today?" the droid said. The object was for the droid to say a phrase and for Jaina to repeat it in Chiss. Jaina repeated phrase after phrase, then repeated them all several times again. Finally the droid gave her a break, and Jaina collapsed thankfully.

The ship's crew was indifferent and silent, bringing her what she needed when she needed and then leaving her alone. She almost preferred it that way, but missed companionship. At this time the last thing she wanted to be doing was studying a foreign language. She wanted to bask in her misery. She was being married off to a complete stranger. She didn't even know his name! How could her parents do this to her? She felt tears forming, but stubbornly willed them away.

She missed her family. Not her parents, but Jacen, Anakin, and Uncle Luke. If everything went as her parent's had scheduled it she wouldn't see them for another year. She was alone in enemy territory. The only person she could rely on was herself.  
She sighed defeatedly. It wasn't fair. She was too young to be married. And she wanted to _live_! She wanted to be a fighter pilot! She wanted to explore the galaxy, administering truth and justice as a Jedi Knight like her uncle. It wasn't fair that she would never have the life she wanted to live.

Worst of all was that she would be tied to some pathetic little man who couldn't even find himself his own wife. She imagined a scrawny little man with beady eyes and thick rimmed spectacles. She shivered. The thought was enough to make her consider jumping the pilot and commandeering the ship. But she couldn't do that. It wasn't out of any respect for her parents or the Senate, but for the welfare of the galaxy. If sacrificing her freedom meant guaranteed peace for her people then she would be a willing sacrifice. What was her one life compared to that of billions upon billions of others? Nothing.

She contemplated many things during the voyage. She thought about her family, and how she could somehow accomplish her dreams anyway. Was there any rule that said she couldn't join a fighter squadron in the Ascendancy? Maybe she should do that. It would be the perfect way to spite them all. She also resolved firmly to have nothing to do with the useless man they were planning to make her marry. They would not get the satisfaction of watching her suffer. She would live her own life. She refused bear this guy any children. She would deprive her parents of grandchildren. If she had to suffer, so would everyone else who caused her misfortune.

Csilla was a large planet, and just looking at it made her shiver. It was covered in glaciers and frozen oceans. Even the land was a giant block of ice. As the ship made its descent into atmosphere Jaina felt her nerves go on edge. Who would be there to greet her? Would her future husband even have the courtesy? She didn't know.

They were instructed to land in a large, empty docking bay. Jaina looked herself over in the mirror one final time before braving her new home. She had been thoroughly instructed in how to dress and behave. She had an impression to make. She wore long billowing navy blue dress pants and a loose tunic to match. She had pulled her hair back and pinned it in an intricate design on the top of her head. She looked much more formal than she would have preferred. In real life she would have worn a flight suit and left her hair down. She probably wouldn't have even cleaned the dirt from under her fingernails. But she knew the consequences of such actions, and so headed the advice that had been given to her.

As it turned out, only a group of Chiss in perfectly starched and pressed uniforms awaited her. "Welcome, Jaina Solo. We are here to guide you to your new home," one said without introduction in accented Basic.

"Basic is not necessary" Jaina said flippantly in Chiss. Their countenances didn't change, but she felt their shock in the Force.

"Very well" the Chiss replied. "Follow us."

Her crew stayed behind to unload her belongings. A few Chiss were left to bring them to Jaina later as well. She followed the greeting party into the labyrinth of icy halls. She was surprised at how warm it was, but knew it must be some kind of advanced technology. They made their way to another outdoor landing pad, went to a hovertaxi, then piled in. The ride through the open fields of snow and ice was silent. A few minutes later the valley they were traversing opened up to a great citydale. Tall buildings lined its conurbation, and speeders buzzed back and forth in the air above them. Jaina marveled at the sight. It was beautiful.

She hated it. She hated it because it seemed to mock her beloved Coruscant and all its splendor. She hated it because the people who had stolen her life away lived here. She resolved solemnly to never love Csilla, no matter how beautiful it was.

They took her through the city, leading the hovertaxi on a winding path until they reached a plushy residential section. They called the driver to a stop in front of a large apartment complex. "Your future inlaws have purchased the entire second floor for you," the Chiss seeming to be in charge said. Jaina simply nodded. No expression of gratitude.

They exited the taxi and the Chiss unlocked the door to the building. Inside a was a large, elaborate staircase. It was quaint, Jaina thought, to not have a turbolift, but considerably inconvenient. She was glad her suite was only on the second floor. The Chiss started to lead her up the stairs but Jaina stopped them with a wave. "I can take it from here, thank you," she said, tiring of talking in Chiss. They looked puzzled and a little miffed, but Jaina simply used the Force to pull the entrance codes from their leader's mind. She turned dismissively and made her way up the stairs.

On the second floor she came to a door. She entered the access code and the door slid open. Inside was a sprawling living room from one end of the building to the other. It was lovely but sparsely furnished. That would have to change. Farther back the floor raised perhaps a tenth of a meter. On the upraised area there was a spacious kitchen and breakfast corner. Behind that she saw three doors that lead to what must be the bedrooms and refresher.

She spent the next hour and a half inspecting her new home. The master bedroom had a shaggy carpet that Jaina sunk up to her ankles in when she walked. The bed was one of the largest she had seen, and hovered perhaps a fourth of a meter off the ground by repulsorlifts. There was a walk-in closet, large enough for four of Jaina's wardrobes. The 'fresher was well-lighted and had two showers and an enormous bathtub. The guest bedroom was not quite as richly decorated, but pleasant nonetheless.

She hated the apartment too. It was nothing to what she had at home, high-quality as it was. She decided firmly to buy all new things. It was her house, after all. If she was going to be forced to live in it, she was at least going to decorate it to her own liking. She paced about the place for a few more minutes, imagining what she was going to change, when she noticed the message recorder in the living area. It was flashing that she had a call. She went over and pressed the blinking button.

"Miss Solo?" a female voice said.

"Yes," Jaina said tentatively.

"This is Colonel Fel's secretary. He has instructed me to inform you that if you so wish you can meet him for dinner tonight at 2000 hours at the..." she trailed off in a series of Chiss words that translated roughly to 'The Fantasy'. Jaina scowled. She didn't want to have dinner with this guy. She wanted nothing to do with him. But she knew that turning him down would hardly be the diplomatic way to start things off. She sighed defeatedly.

"Of course," she said as pleasantly as she could manage. They cut the connection, and Jaina sat back with a frown. She wanted to call her uncle and brothers, but knew she didn't have the time. It was already 1800 hours. She needed to unpack and change. She tried as she did so to try to put on a more positive outlook. Maybe he wouldn't be so bad…

The Fantasy turned out to be quite justly named. Inside the restaurant was fashioned into the perfect illusion of a balcony at night on some tropical planet. The balcony was stone and the there was an intricately carved rail running along the outside edge. From there it seemed to drop off into a sea that lapped against the posts holding the veranda up. The sea appeared to stretch for miles into the distance, and you could clearly see the white reflection of a moon on its surface. The ceiling was just as grand. It was gently domed and appeared to be the perfect image of a night sky, complete with pinprick stars and a harvest moon. The illusion clearly started at the guardrail, because that Jaina could touch and look down at the 'ocean' below. It was so realistic she could smell the salty air and feel the soft spray on her face when she went too near. If she hadn't known that the entire planet was under ice she would have completely believed that this was a terrace overlooking the deep.

She had been seated at a table near enough that she could hear the synthetic crashing of waves but didn't get wet. Of all the marvels she had seen on Csilla, this took the cake. She told herself that it was nothing not done on hundreds of New Republic worlds, but couldn't fool herself into believing she wasn't impressed. She even reminded herself that she was supposed to hate everything about the Chiss. It was useless, because she had loved this placed the moment she set foot inside. She thought it was probably because it was the one place that in any way resembled home.

She had decided to wear a small black dress. It was simple and classic, not overdone as most things her mother had selected for her were. Jaina still felt highly conspicuous in it, but that couldn't be helped. She was the only human in the whole place. Of course she drew a few stares, but she held her head high, reminding herself who she was.

About then she was growing more than a little perturbed. First, this guy had such a pitiable lack of a spine that he had to get his parents to arrange for someone a galaxy away to marry him; then he doesn't even have the courtesy to greet the woman whose life he has uprooted when she arrives; on top of that, he has the audacity to invite her too dinner and then be late.

Upon meditating at his numerable failings she grew angrier and angrier at her predicament. She had half a mind to just up and leave right then—

Someone cleared their throat behind her. She had been studying the phony ocean, and turned around to see who was intruding on her solitude.

And almost fell out of her chair.

Standing behind her was undoubtedly one of the handsomest men she had ever seen. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his attire unable to hide the sinewy muscularity about him. Ruggedly handsome, with features that were strong and would have been attractive to any female humanoid. His green eyes had depth and intelligence, compassion and tenderness. The scar running from his eyebrow up into his hairline gave him just the right touch of imperfection to make him seem real. It took a great deal of effort on Jaina's part to keep her jaw from dropping.

He gave her a shallow bow at the waist. "Miss Solo, I presume?" he asked when he straightened. Jaina only managed to nod.

Finally she recovered enough to say, "Colonel Fel?"

He nodded curtly. "Forgive me for being late. I was delayed."

Jaina looked at him skeptically. What an odd thing to say; he gave no explanation at all, yet seemed to think his answer was more than appropriate. Remembering her manners, she said, "Would you like to sit?"

He seated himself across from her. There was an uncomfortable silence. Finally he asked, "Do you like the apartment?"

Jaina hesitated. "It was kind of you to have it ready," she said diplomatically. "It will suit nicely." _Eventually_.

He shrugged, noncommittal. "I had nothing to do with it, really. My parents purchased and furnished it. I haven't even seen the inside."

Jaina tried to suppress a scowl. His parents had bought it and he hadn't even cared enough to go look at it? "I'm really more impressed with the restaurant," she said, looking around.

"The Fantasy is one of the few extravagancies on Csilla. Most of the planet is built for efficiency only," he commented.

"So I noticed," Jaina mumbled quietly.

Before he could respond the server appeared. He handed each of them a menu. Jaina surveyed the contents, trying to decipher any of the Chiss meals that looked anything like something she had ever eaten. Finally she settled on a very Republic-like dish of nerf steak and protato. Started to tell the server what she wanted, but Colonel Fel was already speaking for her. He was ordering for them both in Chiss. _He thinks I can't speak Chiss!_ She realized suddenly.

"…and—" he was saying, then threw her a quizzical look, "Miss Solo will have  
the—" _And he doesn't know my name_!

"It's Jaina," she said softly. "And if you don't mind, Colonel, I am quite capable of ordering for myself."

He gave her a shocked and inquiring look, then gestured in a way that seemed to say 'go ahead then'. Jaina turned to the blue-skinned Chiss and told him what she wanted, then let the Colonel order for himself. _Wait_! she realized. _I don't know his name eit_her!

When the server left he said, "I apologize. I didn't realize you would be so well equipped."

_He's testing me; trying to see how much I know!_ "It's fine. And, by the way, I was never told your name either."

"It's Jagged, er, Jag. Jag will suffice," he said.

"Jag," she said in Basic, mulling the sound around in her mouth before finally deciding it suited him.

They spent most of the rest of the night in silence. They ate quietly, and Jaina did her best to try to forget he was there and just enjoy the restaurant. She anxiously awaited for him to finish so that they could leave. But after he was done he made no move to leave, but stared at the ocean and the moon. It was then that he broke the silence.

"Have you been informed of the schedule for the next few days?" he asked, all business.

"No," she said. "I assumed I would be able to do as I wished until day after tomorrow."

He ran a hand through his hair in such a way that made him seem wearied. Impulsively, Jaina reached out to touch him with the Force. He was a jumbled mixture of anxiety and resentment, despair and anger. It was enough to make her recoil, but gave her sudden insight into his own situation.

He didn't want her anymore than she wanted him. He hadn't volunteered to pledge his life to a stranger. He hadn't been asked if he wanted to be bound to a woman he didn't and seemed that he could never love. He was as hopelessly constrained as she.

It did nothing to soften Jaina's resentment towards him.

He pulled a datapad from his jacket and handed it to her. She turned it on and scrolled through the contents. She would be free until the next night, and then she was supposed to have dinner with his family. The next day the ceremony would be at 1300 hours at the Justice Hall. There would be no reception. They day after that Jag's life went back to normal, meaning he would be given assignments and duties as usual. Jaina could do whatever she wanted, which she knew roughly translated to mean 'don't draw attention to yourself and keep your mouth shut'.

She didn't tell him she was going to register for a fighter squadron. She didn't tell him she had beat the Rouge Simulator twice, or that the day before she had left her home word had come that she had made the cut. She didn't tell him that she would die before she was shut inside and ignored all the time like a well-secreted embarrassment. She didn't tell him that no one—especially his family—was going to tell her what to do with her life. She didn't tell him anything. She just passed the datapad back without comment while inwardly she seethed.

They left soon after that. He gave her a ride back to her apartment in his speeder. She sat in silence, looking at the soft snowflakes as they fell. It was ridiculously cold outside, but under the ferrocrete were powerful heating elements that made it capable to walk for short distances without anything but a few layers without getting hypothermia. These heaters weren't enough to beat Mother Nature, however, and the temperatures were so extreme that the snow easily accumulated on the ground and short pedestrian walkways that weren't covered. All she did was pray over and over that this was some cruel nightmare that she would soon wake up too.

At length they came to her apartment. He pulled the speeder to a gradual stop, then got out and came around to open her door for her. It was all she could do to murmur her thanks. As she ascended the stairs he said, "Just call my office if you need anything. My secretary will take care of it."

Jaina didn't turn for fear that she would burst into tears. She palmed open the door and hurried quickly inside.

The door chime sounded. Jaina opened one eye, but other than that didn't move a single muscle. She waited for it to sound again to make sure it was real. The massive bed was heavenly soft, and she had finally managed to cry herself to sleep in it. She had slept soundly since. With her one roving eye she looked at the chronometer hanging on the wall. It was 0600. She moaned. Who in their right mind was up at this time of morning?

It chimed again. Grumbling, she swung herself angrily out of bed. She called her robe to her and put it on, securing the sash tightly. She padded across the soft carpet of her bedroom, through the kitchen, and into her living room. She stood on tiptoes to peek through the opening at whoever was so rudely interrupting her rest.

She should have known.

With a sigh she palmed open the hatch. Jag Fel bowed slightly to her. Behind him were several stern-looking Chiss carrying boxes. "I hope I didn't wake you," he said in a tone that gave no indication to the fact that he meant what he said.

Jaina rubbed her eyes hard with the heel of her hands. "What are you doing here?" she asked, but yawned loudly in the process.

"I have brought my belongings to unpack so they will be here after the wedding."

It was the first time either of them had mentioned the forthcoming nuptials. Jaina eyed him closely. "At 0600 in the morning?"

"I will be…preoccupied the rest of the day. May I come in?" Jaina moved aside to let him and the Chiss file in. Wordlessly—and without permission, she noted—they moved around the apartment, unpacking box after box and arranging the items in appropriate areas. Jaina was too tired to argue or even be miffed. She went to make herself a pot of caf.

"Would any of you like some caf?" she offered. All the Chiss shook their heads. "Colonel?"

He had been arranging stacks of datacards on a shelf. "What?"

She waved a steaming cup of caf in his direction, then raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Yes, please," he said, then went back to his task.

Jaina poured him a glass. "How do you like it?"

"Black," he answered. _Figures_, she thought. She shuffled across the large living room and handing him the steaming mug. "Thank you," he said, then returned to ignoring her. That was fine with Jaina. She went and sat on the couch and flipped on the Holonet and sipped her own cup. She wasn't going to let them think she was bothered by their brazen intrusion. To her surprise, her Uncle Luke appeared on the screen.

"—cannot support this decision," he was saying.

The nosy Sullustan reporter continued to follow him down the street, even though he was obviously done talking to her. "But Master Skywalker, do you not think this is the best course of action in gaining peace? And how can you oppose such a decision when it was so overwhelmingly approved by the Senate?"

"I have no further comment," he said calmly, but Jaina could tell he was flustered. He headed towards a parked hovertaxi.

"But Master Skywalker, we only wish to gain insight as to your opinion on such a monumental verdict—"

He whirled on the tiny alien. "If you did not already have an idea as to how I feel then you wouldn't be trying to provoke me. I bid you good day." He climbed in the hovertaxi and sped off quickly. The perturbed holojournalist turned to face the holorecorder and brought the microphone to her mouth.

"Well, there's the insight on the upcoming union from Master Luke Skywalker. Thank you, Galun, back to you."

As the dashing Twi'lek anchorman appeared Jaina switched it off, disgusted. She hated that Uncle Luke was being hounded by the media because of this. Jacen and Anakin were probably getting it even worse. She sighed and downed the last of her drink. She turned and found that Jag and his subordinates were finishing up. When done Jag came to stand before her. Jaina didn't stand, but looked at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Solo. I hope we weren't too intrusive. I guess I'll see you tonight at 1800."

Jaina nodded but didn't reply.

"If you have any questions, or need anything, just comm my secretary," he said again. When it became obvious that he would get nothing further from her he bowed again and left. Jaina sighed in relief when they were gone. She got up then and went to inspect the items they had left behind. There were lots of holos and datacards, all filed neatly. The largest item was a flowform chair that molded to fit your shape. It had been placed in front of the holoplayer. _Men_, Jaina thought. _They all have their favorite chairs_.

What she found most interesting of everything was his wardrobe. She had never shared a closet with anyone, and found his clothing quite intriguing. There was row after row of hanging identical uniforms. Then there were a few non-militaristic garments that must be what he wore off duty. There was three pair of boots, several flight-suits, and the drawers of the dresser had been filled with socks and undergarments. Those she didn't inspect expect to know they were there. To avoid any run-ins she moved most of her delicates to a separate cabinet all together. They may be married but that didn't mean they had to act like it.

Satisfied, she dressed and left to go shop for new furnishings.

Jaina ran an admiring hand across a silky cream wedding gown. Her mother hadn't packed a wedding dress, because the ceremony would be so informal. No doubt she would have some extravagant designer product when Jaina returned home the next year for the public ceremony.

That left the decision of what she would wear to Jaina. She had toyed with the thought of wearing a pair of greasy mechanic overalls, but couldn't bring herself to do it. No use in adding kindling to the fire. The dress she saw in front of her was plain, no adornments or lace or ribbons. It was long sleeved and formfitting to the waist where it flared only slightly before falling to right above the ankles. Or, that's where it was supposed to fall. Jaina's petite stature made it brush the ground when she walked. She pulled it off the rack and examined the price. She would have flinched, but shrugged instead. It wasn't her money. Let her mother foot the bill. Tossing it over her arm, she moved to the veils.

She hadn't found any furniture to suit her tastes anywhere, and so decided to leave the apartment as it was. In the back of her mind she actually planned to be absent from the place most of the time anyway. She even contemplated renting her own place on the side and letting the Colonel have the other all to himself. There had been nothing in the deal that said she had to live with him.

A small cap that would fit on the crown of the head caught her eye. It was the same color as the gown and had a short, simple one-layered veil that fell only to her collarbone. She picked it up and placed it on her head, then examined herself in the mirror.

She looked terribly plain in it. _Perfect_, she thought in private amusement. She threw it over the dress and took them both to the clerk. To her surprise, it was a female human, not much older than herself. She was looking at a magazine and chewing gum, and didn't notice Jaina standing there until she cleared her throat. When she looked up her eyes grew wide. "You're," she stammered, "You're that girl, aren't you? The one from the Republic who's going to marry that fine-looking colonel! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" she jumped from her repulsorchair and ran around the counter to embrace Jaina. "I've been waiting for _years_ to find another human friend!"

"Are you the only one?" Jaina asked cautiously.

"In the tricity area." Her countenance grew a little sad. "Well, there used to be another. Cherith Fel was my best friend, until the accident. Now she's gone and me and my parent's are the only one's left. Besides the other Fel kids, of course. But Wyn's way too young to have any fun with like Cherith." She beamed suddenly. "But now I have you! Oh, I'm sorry, I must be scaring you to death. I'm Vyqtouria. Call me Touri. What's your name again? I must have heard it a million times, but can't remember for the life of me."

"Jaina," she said, taking Touri's proferred hand.

"Well, Jaina, I cannot express in words how happy I am to meet you."

"Do you own this shop?" Jaina asked, looking around. It held a variety of items, from cookware to formal wear. She couldn't imagine the Chiss taking pleasure in such disorder.

"Yep," Touri said. "Mrs. Fel keeps me in business. She's my main customer. Come's in at least every other day. The Chiss don't seem to like my style much, but that's fine with me. I like being different."

Jaina could tell. Her hair had a too-blond look that suggested it was dyed, and her fingernails were long and painted lime green. She wore a leather jumpsuit that was at least a size too small, and a small diamond stud adorned her nose. She presented a look that suggested she rebelled against everything about the Chiss and didn't mind showing it.

Jaina liked her.

"So," Touri said conspiratorially, "is Fel as handsome up close as he is from a distance?"

Jaina wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I want nothing to do with that man."

Touri frowned in confusion. "Why not? Boy, if they had asked _me_ to marry the guy…"

"That's just it. No one _asked _me if I wanted to marry him. I was _told_."

"That's terrible! No one gave you a choice?" Touri asked, astonished.

"No."

Touri leaned back thoughtfully on the counter. "That's not how the media is portraying it. They make it sound like you both were happy to do it for the cause. Like it was no big deal, and you volunteered to do it for symbolic reasons."

"Well, it was more like my uncle coming to talk to me, saying 'you're getting married to a stranger this week and have to move off to Chiss space and leave everything behind. Oh, you have two days to pack.' My parents volunteered me for this. I have no control," Jaina sighed, happy to be able to tell someone of her troubles.

Touri snorted derisively. "I would have told them they could take their idea and stick it right up their—"

"It's not like that. I didn't even see them before I left. They didn't even say goodbye. A few suitcases were delivered a few days later with the stuff my mom wanted me to wear, and that's about it."

"Hmm," Touri said. "So, when is the big day?"

"Tomorrow," Jaina moaned.

"You met his parents yet?"

"Tonight."

Touri winced. "Watch out. Syal's a little overprotective, and Soontir acts like he's interrogating someone all the time. I don't think if you act polite and devoted you should have much trouble with Syal, but nothing's to be done about Soontir. Depends on what mood he's in, I guess."

"How is it you know so much about them and so little about Jag?" Jaina asked.

"His little sister Cherith was my best friend, like I said. But she died a while back. She told me everything about them. And Wyn's a real gossip, too. She talks all the time when Syal brings her with her. Cute little kid, really. Smart as she can be; doesn't miss a thing."

"Well," Jaina said, examining her chrono, "I should really get going, if you could ring this up for me."

"Oh, sure," Touri said cheerily, but seemed a little disappointed.

"Thanks for the info. I'm sure it'll come in handy," Jaina said meanwhile.

"No problem. If you need anything, you know where to find me. If there's one thing I know, it's people."

Jaina believed her.

Jaina had just sat down to eat lunch when her comm started going off. She sighed and went to the living area. She depressed the flashing button. "Solo," she said, a little irritated since she had a hunch as to who it was.

"It's Colonel Fel secretary," she said, her voice as stern and hard as ever. "I was calling to make sure everything was going well. I called earlier and you didn't answer."

Jaina's irritations spiked to anger. "Am I not allowed to go shopping when I want?"

"Of course," she said smoothly. "We had just expected that you would want a guide before venturing out on your own."

"You mean someone to keep track of me?" she asked, tired of playing games.

"I'm not sure I understand," she said carefully.

"Sure you don't. Listen, you can tell the colonel that if he wants to talk to me about something, he can call me himself," then she cut the connection.

Jaina had just sat down again when the comm went off. Jaina growled angrily, and stomped back into the living room. She hit the button angrily. "What?"

"Why did you hang up on my secretary?" Jag Fel's voice said, cold with what she supposed was carefully restrained anger.

"Why do you have her do all your dirty work? Listen, if you want to talk to me, you talk to me in person. Don't write me off like another piece of office work."

There was silence for a few moments. Then, "I am sorry you were offended. It's just that my schedule is quite full—"

"I don't give a kriff about your schedule! If I have to marry you, the least you can do is treat me like a wife!" she huffed.

More silence. "I think this is something we should discuss in person, at a later time—"

"Well, I'm here, whenever you decide you want to discuss it." She killed it again. Feeling quite proud of herself, she finished her lunch in peace; she had no longer laid the fork down until her door chimed. She got up to answer it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jag Fel stood in the doorway. His countenance was one of carefully controlled rage, and he emanated frustration like stink on a Tauntaun. Jaina gave him a falsely sweet smile. "Colonel. What a pleasant surprise."

He scowled. "I haven't come all the way down here to play games, Jaina." It was the first time he had called her by her name, and Jaina was slightly taken aback. "Are you going to let me in?" So, no more Mister Nice Guy. That was fine with Jaina. It was time to take the gloves off. She moved aside so he could enter. The door slid shut behind him.

When she turned around he was facing her. "What do you want from me?" he asked simply.

Jaina snorted derisively. _Well, let's just cut straight to the power cable_. "I didn't ask for this, you know," she said. "I didn't _ask_ to leave my home and family and come live here. I was _forced_ to. And I don't think that I should have to go through all that and be palmed off to whoever's convenient by the guy who's taken all that from me." 

His eyebrows shot up at her accusations. "Do you think I want this any more than you do? Do you actually think I want to marry _you_? I haven't any more choice in this than you do. And I think I've been a whole lot more courteous about the whole damned situation than you have."

Jaina folded her arms across her chest. Her first instinct was to tell him to just get out, but she managed to refrain. "Really? Hmm, let's see. First, you don't even meet me when I arrive. Then, I was asked to dinner _by your secretary_. At dinner, you give me an _itinerary_ as to what I'm supposed to do for the next few days. This morning, you barge into my apartment—"

"_Our_ apartment," he interjected.

"—at an unholy hour so you can _unpack_," she finished, not skipping a beat. "Oh, and then what happens? You've had your secretary keeping tabs on me to make sure I don't do anything embarrassing. Am I right? I know I am. And you have the _insolence_ to accuse _me_ of being 'discourteous'." 

He gave her a calculating look. "What do you expect? You want me to act _happy_? Well, I'm not. You're not the only one who's had their life ripped out from underneath them, Miss Solo. I'm only doing as told."

"That's what you're best at, isn't it?" she snapped. "Following orders. Keeping everyone in line. Well, I'm not as easily bossed around as you would wish. I may have to live the rest of my life _with_ you, but I'm not going to live the rest of my life _under_ you! As much as you would like, I'm not your subordinate, and I never will be!"

A muscle in his jaw tightened noticeably. "Again, I ask, what do you want of me?" he said with more control than he should have, under the circumstances.

Jaina sighed, pondering the question. "I want," she said finally, "for us both to be able to live our own lives. I don't want to own you, and I certainly don't want be owned _by_ you. I want to be able to do what I want, without any interference from you or your family. I want to be your equal. I want respect. And I'll give you respect in return."

Jag was quiet for a long while, holding her eyes. Jaina's gaze didn't flinch. Finally he said in a very cautious tone, "I cannot vouch for anyone but myself; but I can promise you that I won't tell you what to do. I can promise to give you the respect you deserve. But I can promise nothing else."

Jaina nodded solemnly. "As long as we hold to that, I don't think we'll have much of a problem."

He returned that night to escort her to his parent's residence. The ride through the snow was completely silent. Jaina didn't have anything else to say to him, and she guessed he was finished too. The atmosphere wasn't hostile, at least. She supposed that was something.

When the large house came into view Jaina breathed a sigh of wonder. It was tall and made of stone, with railed balconies much like the one outside Jaina's own bedroom. It was gorgeous to say the least. Small smoke tendrils could be seen curling up from an old-fashioned chimney. Framed by snow, it was one of the loveliest houses she had ever seen.

As he pulled the speeder to a stop the front door opened to reveal a small blond girl. She was probably around ten or so, but even through the snowy wind Jaina could see the intelligence in her eyes. She smiled broadly as Jaina and Jag got out. "Jag!" she called, waving excitedly. He waved back, a hint of a smile crossing his features.

"My sister Wyn," he explained as he helped her from the speeder. Jaina nodded. They made their way up the ice-covered steps, and as soon as he stepped through the door he was tackled by the girl.

"Jag!" she said excitedly. "Guess what? I was accepted at the Academy!" she beamed.

Jag smiled, but there was a hint of a frown to it. "I thought mother didn't want you joining the military."

Wyn shrugged. "She doesn't. But me and Dad are working on her."

"Dad and I," Jag corrected absent-mindedly, but his gaze was on the figure approaching. Jaina looked up to see. There, lo and behold, was none other than Wynssa Starflare, the holovid actress. Jaina's jaw dropped. Was this…could this be Jag's mother?

Jag let go of his sister to embrace her lightly. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Jag."

"Mother," he responded. He turned to Jaina. "Jaina, this is my mother, Syal Antilles Fel. Mother, This is Jaina Solo."

Syal smiled lightly and extended her hand. "It's so good to meet you, a last."

Jaina managed a polite smile.

Syal cocked her head, as if curious. "You looked shocked, my dear. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Jaina said. "Just a little puzzled."

"Over what?"

"Several things. Begging your pardon, but you bear a striking resemblance to the holostart, Wynssa Starflare. And you said your name was Antilles. I am wondering if you are related to General Wedge Antilles."

Syal smiled broadly. "To answer your first question, I _am_ Wynssa Staflare. Wynssa is just my stage name. And General Antilles is my brother."

Jaina smiled again, this time genuinely. "My uncle is good friends with Wedge. He's my holdfather, actually."

Syal cocked one eyebrow. "Really? Well. I haven't seen Wedge in years, though. I guess there's no reason I should have known."

She turned then and led them into a dining room. "Where's Father?" Jag asked on the way.

"Working late. He'll be here soon, though," Syal explained. "We can go ahead and get started without him." As they sat down a young man bearing a striking resemblance to Jag, probably only a year or two younger than Jaina, came in. He was studying a datapad.

"Cem, put that down," Syal said. "It's time for dinner." He looked up for the first time, and noticed Jag, then Jaina.

"Who's that?" he asked, looking at Jaina.

"This is Jaina Solo," Syal explained. "Jaina, this is my son Cem."

They both murmured greatings. "Mom, I can't make dinner tonight," he said afterwards, going back to the datapad. "I have to make some modifications on my clawcraft."

Syal looked terribly disappointed. "You haven't had dinner here in a week!"

He shrugged as he left the room. "Sorry."

"He's just growing up, Mother," Jag said when he was gone. "It's natural." 

"I know," she sighed. "That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Server droids had just set the meal out on the table when the door to the outside opened. A huge, hulking man with a black eyepatch came to stand in the doorway. Syal stood as he entered. He came and kissed her on the cheek then turned to stare directly at Jaina.

"So," he began, "I suspect that you are Jaina Solo."

"I am," she said.

"Baron Soontir Fel," he said and inclined his head in her direction. Without another word he sat down at the head of the table. The food was distributed and eaten silently. Jaina didn't think this was due to her presence though, but that such was the norm. It was a far cry from a family dinner at the Solo/Skywalker household, where food fights and wrestling matches ensued more often than not.

It wasn't until towards the end of dinner that they began to speak more. Most of the conversation was directed at Jaina.

"Do you like the apartment?" Syal asked.

"It was very kind of you to have it ready for me," Jaina said truthfully.

"What do you think of Csilla?" Wyn asked.

"I think the snow's very beautiful," she answered.

"Have you gone shopping yet?" Syal asked. "There's a little shop downtown—"

"I went today," Jaina said. "Touri told me you come in there a lot." 

Syal smiled wistfully at the mention of Touri. "She was my Cherith's best friend. I do what I can to keep her in business." 

"What do you plan to with your days?" Soontir asked suddenly. Jaina thought it an odd and rather random question. She debated for a few minutes as what to tell him, and finally decided she might as well drop the bomb now.

"I was thinking of joining a fighter squadron."

There was utter silence. They were all looking at her as if she had just turned into a Hutt. "What?"

"Well," Jag said slowly, "I'm not sure that's a very good idea."

"Me either," Soontir said, but not in as nearly a nice way.

"Why not?" Jaina asked, drawing herself up.

"Frankly, Jaina, I'm not sure you would fit in," Jag said.

Jaina turned to look at him. Had they not just had this conversation? "Why? Am I not good enough?" 

Jag took on a sterner look. "No offense, but probably not." 

Jaina was appalled. "I was accepted into Rouge Squadron back home! I beat the simulator twice, and I bet I could outfly over half your pilots with my eyes closed!" It wasn't a flip statement, but closer to the truth. She didn't trust her eyes in battle; only the Force.

"Be that as it may," the Baron interjected, "I don't want you applying for any such position." 

Jaina felt her temperature rise a few degrees. "And who are you to tell me what to do?"

He looked as if about to explode. "I am your superior, as long as you live in the Ascendancy! You are in _my_ charge and _will_ do as I say!" 

Silence reigned for close to a minute. In that time Jaina inwardly debated as whether to show him exactly how intimidated she was, or to cry. She would _not_ be treated this way. In the end, she decided to do neither. She got up and left. She went back into the foyer area, and hastily put on her parka, shivering with her rage. As she buttoned it jag appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I want to go home. Now."

Jag scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "It'll be a short ride back, can't you just wait until—"

"No!" She was on the verge of tears. She hadn't meant that awful, empty apartment. She wanted to go _home_. He would never understand. "Either you take me home _right now_ or I'll walk."

Jag started to protest, but saw the look in her eyes and knew it was no idle threat. He also knew she wouldn't survive five minutes in the subzero temperatures. He nodded slowly. "Just let me go pull it around." He pulled on his jacket and left in a whirl of snow. Jaina stood in the doorway, anxiously awaiting his return. Suddenly she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned to see Syal standing there. Jaina didn't speak, but continued to look out the window, waiting for Jag to arrive.

"I am sorry for their behavior," Syal said softly. "I will try to work on Soontir for you." 

Jaina was shocked, and a little touched. "Thank you." 

Syal laid a cautious hand on Jaina's shoulder. "I understand what you must be going through. Please do not suppose that I supported this."

Jaina turned to look at the older woman. Only kindness reflected from her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, afraid she would dissolve in tears. Such compassion in such an unlikely place. When she turned back around Jag and the speeder were waiting for her. She palmed open the door and stepped outside into the blizzard air.

Jaina refused to speak to him on the way back, and even when they arrived back. she got out of the hovercar by herself, and didn't spare him a backward glance as she climbed the stairs to her prison.

Jaina arose the next morning more depressed than she had been since she arrived. What a terrible day. Her wedding day. She gloomily made her self a pot of caf, downed it, and fixed two shots of liquor before she felt ready to face the day. She had just sat down to watch the Holonet, hoping to catch another glance of her family, when the door chime sounded. Annoyed, she got up to answer it. She looked through the small window to see Jag Fel on the other side. "What are you doing here?" she asked, yelling to make herself heard.

He frowned. "Are you not going to let me in?"

"Bad luck," Jaina said, glad for the excuse.

He sighed wearily. "Are you serious?"

"Deathly. The lest thing we need is more bad luck. What do you want?"

He was quiet for a few minutes. Finally, "To apologize for last night. After the conversation we had, I should have known enough to not interfere. If you want to apply, I'm no one to stop you."

Jaina took a step back, shocked and even suspicious at his admission. "Have you been talking to your mother?"

He frowned again. "No. What does she have to do with this?"

"Nothing," Jaina replied. "Thank you, Jag. That means a lot to me."

He nodded in a casual sort of way that seemed to say, 'well, don't try to make anything out of it'. "I just didn't think it would be right to marry you under the conditions we were in last night." 

Jaina agreed silently. "I guess I'll see you later then." 

"Okay," he responded. Jaina watched him turn and head back down the stairs. Feeling a little better—but only a little—she went back to readying herself for that evening.

There was no one for Jaina to share her wedding day with. There was no mother to cry with have that special talk with, no friends to laugh with. There was no father to walk her down the aisle. There were no brothers threaten the groom-to-be. There was only Jaina.

She stood in a side room at Justice Hall, examining herself in the mirror. She looked pale and frightened, homely even. Her hair was pulled back severely and the cap pulled down over her head, the veil draped over her face. She looked almost as if in mourning, except for the color of the dress.

She heaved a great sigh, and with it released every hope and dream she had ever had. They would be gone in a matter of minutes, with no hope of return. This was her life. This was as good as it was going to get.

A single tear ran down her face and dripped off her chin. She wiped it furiously, not afraid of smearing any makeup. She hadn't put on any. There was no bouquet, only a single white rose. In a short moment of amusement she imagined throwing it in his face and running out. But this was just something she had to do.

But she wouldn't go in without talking to her family first. She sat down at a desk, and punched in the series of comm numbers she knew by heart. A few seconds later there was a click and a sleepy-looking Jacen appeared on the screen. "Jaina!" he exclaimed.

"Hey Jace," she said softly. "Sorry to wake you. I never did understand that time difference stuff."

He looked at her appraisingly. "Are you just about to get married?"

Jaina looked down at her gown, as if in confirmation. "Yeah."

He gave her a pained look. Even though he was millions of lightyears away, she felt his touch on her heart through their twin bond. "You okay?"

She nodded sadly.

"You don't look okay."

"I just needed to see you before I could go through with this."

He looked around his room. "Just hang on a sec and I'll go get Ani and Uncle Luke—"

Jaina waved him off. "Don't wake them. I'll call you all later."

He looked dubious. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I love you Jacen."

His features, so like her own, softened. "I love you too, Jaina. You can do this. I have faith in you."

She nodded, forcing herself to not weep in front of him. "Thank you. I'll call you later. Tomorrow." 

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

The connection fizzled out, and Jaina sat back, preparing herself emotionally. She could overcome this. She _was_ stronger than this. She could do this. With nothing else to do, she grabbed her rose and opened the door, stepping out into the Hall.

The ceremony was short and to the point. There was no music or professions of love. It simply was what it was. Only his parents and siblings were in attendance. They all stood by solemnly.

Jaina tried to keep her mind off the situation, tried to lighten it in her mind's eye. She couldn't let herself think about how serious it was. Jag looked as bad as she felt. They didn't make eye contact, and when he placed the ring on her finger they both quickly shied away from the touch.

When it was her turn to say the vows, she did listen in all seriousness to what the officiator said. When he got to the 'love' part she found herself hesitate. If love meant to be loyal, to be faithful, to be willing to compromise, then…yes, she could do that.

"I do," she said quietly.

The process was repeated with Jag, and his answer was equally unenthusiastic. They hurried and signed all the appropriate documents, and the officiator pronounced them legally wed. They left the Hall in silence. There was no celebration or rejoicing, not even a congratulations. His family went their way and they went theirs. The ride home was one of the longest of Jaina's life. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Jaina fled immediately to the fresher upon their arrival, locking herself inside and not coming out for some time. She sat on the floor in the corner, knees drawn up to her chest. What was she going to do? She would die before she let him touch her, though she wasn't sure that anything of the kind was on his mind.

If anything Jagged Fel seemed as distraught by the nuptials as she was. She got the distinct feeling that he wanted as little to do with her as she did with him. He was permeated with misery in the Force. She tried to shut herself off to it, but he had a strong, domineering presence that wasn't easily ignored.

When she had been in seclusion for close to two hours she finally drew up enough strength to brave the outside world. She palmed open the door and peered outside. He was nowhere to be found in the bedroom. She extended her Force-awareness and found him in the living room. Confident that she was free of any unwanted intrusions, she took off the gown quickly, throwing it in a wrinkled pile on the floor. She put on a pair oversized pajama pants that had belonged to her brother Anakin until he outgrew them—Jaina was the smallest of her siblings by far despite the fact she was oldest—and a T-shirt that was baggy and at least two sizes too large. It was very unflattering; all the better. She wrapped herself in a robe and tied the sash tightly before venturing into the kitchen. He turned from his sitting position on the couch as he heard her enter, but made no comment. She said nothing either.

She grabbed herself a small pastry and a glass of blue milk and retreated quickly back into the bedroom. She ate quietly, by herself. She had no appetite, but knew she needed to eat to keep her strength up and so nibbled every once and a while until she finished it.

By then it was getting dark outside. The thought made her nauseous. It would be time to go to sleep soon. That meant he would come in there with her. She let her mind go no farther than that. She would have nothing to do with him.

She spent perhaps the next hour and a half just rearranging things in the room. She went from cabinets to dressers to closets to even the pictures on the wall. She moved everything around at least twice before she became satisfied with the feel of it. Bored but hoping she would stay that way, she went to look out the transparisteel window that led to her balcony. Speeders an hovertaxis, along with the occasional clawcraft patrol, buzzed by intermittently. But it wasn't like Coruscant. It didn't teem with life. The frigid climate kept most people indoors. Compared even to smaller worlds Jaina had seen, such as Mon Calamari or Bothawui, Csilla was sparse and desolate.

The door behind Jaina slid open. Jag came inside but still didn't speak. He pulled a few things out of one of his drawers and went wordlessly to the 'fresher. Jaina didn't want to speak, and so slid out of the robe and climbed into the enormous bed. She curled herself as far as she could to the edge, glad for the distance if he did the same. When he came out Jaina didn't look, speak, or even breathe. She buried her face in the pillow and pretended to be asleep. He went to the side of the bed opposite her, putting a good two meters between them. Neither spoke. 

As she lay in the dark, Jaina wondered if this was what the rest of her life would be like. Would she always be so uncomfortable in her own house, always feel so awkward? Would she ever be able to have those nights when she and her brothers and her uncle stayed up all night watching old movies and laughing and talking? Would she ever have a three-on-one lightsaber match again where the odds were still ridiculously in Luke's favor, but he was kind enough to pretend to lose anyway? The thought made her want to laugh, but it caught in her throat and turned to a sob. He was such a pitifully bad actor it was cute, like when you see a stuffed Ewok or a baby Sullustan.

And Jacen. How many times had they gotten lost in that colossal metropolis? But he was always there; he always helped her find her way home. He always had a free shoulder to cry on, and encouraging words to lean on. Who would be there to pick her up now? 

Another gasping sob escaped her throat.

Anakin. Her little brother. He was most like her off the four of them. They both loved tinkering, taking apart things they shouldn't and trying to put them back together again before Uncle Luke found out. He was always up for a challenge, like a barely restrained vornskr waiting to be unleashed. She doubted anyone on Csilla held the passion for life he did.

She tugged the pillow harder against her face, trying to mask the uncontrollable sobs. She knew he could hear her, but he hadn't spoken or even moved. She hated herself for doing this in front of him. Her embarrassment made her cry harder, and finally she could take it no more. She threw off the covers and leapt quickly out off bed. She ran to the balcony and threw open the transpariseel doors. She scurried onto the terrace, letting the doors slap shut loudly behind her. She grasped the smooth metal rail in both hands and looked down to the street below. It wasn't cold, for the veranda had been shielded and heated, but even so the metal was still cold to the touch. She relished in the feeling, any feeling other than the agony in her heart.

Looking at the distance beneath her, she considered jumping. The fall would surely kill her. But was she really brave enough to take her own life?

The balcony doors creaked slowly open. She didn't turn, but continued to look at the drop and debate as to whether or not take the plunge. Jag came into her peripheral vision, standing beside her next to the railing. She didn't look at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She felt the tiniest hint of wind that managed to escape through the heat shield. The cold stung her wet cheeks, and she realized she was still crying. She shook her head no.

It was quiet again for a long while. She felt despair well up inside, and it bubbled forth suddenly like from a broken dam. She began to speak, to tell him everything about her brothers and Uncle. She told him about her parents, how she hadn't even spoken with them about the situation. She told him she hadn't lived with her parents since she was six, and that she missed them so much sometimes it became a physical ache.

She didn't know why she told him this. Maybe it was just because she needed to let it out. She had held so much in for so long. When she was done it was like a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders. He listened quietly and attentively as she spoke, and seemed to ponder her words for a long while after she was done.

And then he began to tell her who he was. He was a fighter pilot, first and foremost. His passion for flying was boundless. He had acquired his own squadron, risen above his alien piers at the age of sixteen, two years before. He had fought in two wars, neither of which Jaina had ever known even existed. Much of what the Chiss did was kept secret from the Republic. He told her of how his father had never treated him like a son; he was always a subordinate reporting to a superior officer. He told her how he had lost an older brother and younger sister, and his eldest brother, Chak, had been incommunicado in the far reaches of space for months. 

They talked about food and holodramas, about podracing and sabaac. She told him about the time she and Jacen had snuck out and played sabaac at a bar one night, losing almost a thousand credits. Jag had never broken any of his parents' rules.

Jaina eventually began to forget that this was her husband, a man she had been forced to marry and had sworn to hate. She saw him just as Jag. And he wasn't nearly as bad as she had assumed. In due course they began to tire, but didn't go back inside. Jaina didn't even know she had fallen asleep until she woke up on the floor the next morning.

His breathing was even, and he gave all the signs of being completely asleep. Jaina just stared at him for a few seconds, then hoisted herself off the floor. It was daylight, and the must make for a funny sight by the passerby in hovercars. She considered waking him up but decided to leave him. She needed a shower.

She turned the water up as hot as it would get, until it scalded her skin. She just stood there under the for a long time until she tired of it. She got out and dried and put on a jumpsuit. Jag was no longer on the balcony, she saw as she went back into the bedroom. She went to the kitchen and found him making a pot of caf. He smiled slightly as she entered. "Morning."

"Good morning," she said sliding onto a stool and pulling it up to the counter that separated the kitchen and living room. "So, what time to you have to be at work?"

He checked his chrono. "Ten minutes." He gave her a sly look. "That eager to get rid of me?" 

Jaina shrugged, noncommittal. "Maybe I just want to know if I'll have to order one breakfast or two."

He smiled and passed her a cup of caf. "It would never get here in time."

She shrugged again. "More for me." She fingered the rim of her cup nervously. She didn't know how well this would go over, but she had to ask. "Would you be willing to do me a favor today?"

He looked at her hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Could you maybe turn in an application for a spot in a squadron for me?"

He looked uncomfortable and fidgeted with the caf maker. "Jaina, I don't want to interfere, but I still think that's a bad idea. Most of the Chiss are above-average pilots."

Jaina drew herself up indignantly. "You have no idea as to whether I can fly or not."

He looked up and met her gaze. "You're right. I don't. Why don't you show me, then."

"How?" she asked cautiously.

"I'll make you a deal. You meet me at the simulators today at lunch. If you can beat me, I'll do everything I can to help you get in a squadron."

Jaina pondered his proposal carefully. "And what if I lose?"

He shrugged. "Then you drop the idea and pick something else to do." 

She considered him for a long moment. He was obviously very confident he could beat her. That was a little disconcerting, and gave her pause. But this might be her one shot. She could do this. She had to. She extended her hand in agreement. "Deal."

They shook, both seeming satisfied with themselves. Jaina didn't know what kind of pilot he was, but according to everything she knew about the Chiss, they were full of great pilots. For him to have beat them all out and acquire his own squad would mean this was going to be tough. Really tough. But Jaina had never backed away from a challenge, and rather enjoyed the thought of beating him. She wouldn't go down without a fight.  
The bank of simulators was huge. Row after row of pods lined the area, but they were all unoccupied. Everyone was a work. These sims were for off-duty practice, and any sims being run during this time of day would be on a base.

Jag was late. Jaina was a little miffed, but spent the time going over again and again everything she knew about starfighter tactics. It had occurred to her after he left that maybe the only ships they had programmed in were of Imperial make. She had only flown X-wings, and worried that she would be at a disadvantage.

The clawcraft was like a TIE, but probably closer to an X-wing than a TIE itself. She was torn, not knowing which she should chose if the occasion arose. She fervently hoped that it didn't.

She felt Jag approaching but didn't turn to greet him. She waited until he came up beside her before speaking. "They do have X-wings on these things, right?"

"Yes. But if you do by some chance happen to beat me you will have to fly clawcraft. You might as well start now."

"No thanks," she said, running a hand over the black metal shell. "I'll take my chances with one of those later."

"Suit yourself. Are you ready?"

She nodded slowly. She looked over at him and grinned mischievously. "Afraid?"

"No," he scoffed. 

She used the Force to do a back flip onto the top of the pod. She looked down at him, smiling, and said, "You should be."

He was good. _Really_ good. She found herself evading his shots more than actually attacking herself, but her main objective was to stay alive. Which she had done.

For the past to hours.

Lunch break had come and gone, but he wasn't willing to back down and neither was she. They played cat and mouse for a while, trading off defensive and offensive positions. They had both taken hits, but none of them were enough to do any serious damage or put the other out of commission.

She banked hard to starboard and then pulled up. She looped around, making and arc and dropping down beside what should have been his tail. But he was nowhere to be found. She dove immediately, panicking as missile lock alarms blared in her ears. She evaded for a good five minutes before gaining back some control of the situation. She searched her scopes, looking for him. She saw his position, off to her portside. She made for that direction, a plan slowly forming in her mind. As she came closer her approach vector was peppered with laserfire, and she juked and jinked out of the way. Finally she saw the perfect shot, one that came close enough to look like a hit. She slapped a control that would fry the circuit boards near her astromech and would give off a tremendous amoun of sparks. She allowed her fighter to wobble and shake as if in its death throes, while she actually began to initiate a missile lock of her own. As she saw him come in for the kill she spun her fighter suddenly, flipping it onto its s-foils and rotating the nose in his direction. She loosed the missile, but it exploded long before hitting its target. She realized suddenly that he had been preparing to use one on her, and the two had collided. She realized at the same time that he would have seen this from his angle before she did. The realization came a split second before she exploded in a brilliant ball of flame, pierced by his laser cannons. 

She took off the simulator helmet wearily. She felt so disheartened she could have began another fit of weeping, but held herself firm. She popped the hatch to her pod, and hoisted herself out resignedly. He was already waiting on the ground for her, a small grin on his face. She noticed with a little bit of pride that he looked just as exhausted as she felt. "Well," she sighed, "I guess you win."

"I guess I do," he said.

"Yeah. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Hang on just a second."

Jaina turned back around to face him. "Anyone who can fly like that deserves to have a place in this military," he said softly.

Jaina felt a sudden since of joy well up inside her, the first happiness she had felt since arriving. "Are…are you serious?"

He nodded gently. Jaina burst suddenly into a grin and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a grateful embrace. "Oh thank you!" she exclaimed. "You'll never know how much this means to me!"

He only smiled coyly as she pulled away. "I mean it. I never would have thought you had it in you," he said.

"You sure didn't make it easy," she responded as she checked her chrono. "Wow, you're really late."

He looked at the time and winced. "Yeah. I need to get going."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'll see you later."

Happier than she had ever thought she would be on this godforsaken rock, Jaina hurried back to their apartment to call her brothers and uncle. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was a large box, about a half-meter taller than Jaina. It was plain and square, giving n hint to what was inside. And Jaina was dying to find out.

It was a present from her uncle and brothers. It had arrived only a half-hour before, and Jaina had run straight to the port to pick it up. She had not been informed that it weighed considerably more than she could carry and could not fit in a hovercar. So there she was, with no was to transport it and unwilling to leave it. If only she knew what was inside…

Nodding to herself in sudden decision, she unfastened the latches that held the door closed. It took a few minutes, but she finally managed to pry open the door. Inside was the last thing she had expected.

It was a droid, heavily plated and armed, like a guard droid. On its belt hung two lightsabers, along with several blasters. Jaina ran a hand along its chestplate, wondering what her uncle expected her to do with this. Surely he didn't think she needed guarding. Impulsively, she jerked one of the blasters from the holster on its side and examined it. she realized suddenly that its highest setting would have no more power than to give minor burns.

It was a practice droid.

It was a less-than-subtle hint that her Jedi training was to continue, even though she was lightyears from the closest Jedi. She was expected to practice with this, substituting it for her siblings. A sudden thought occurred, and she rummaged around in the crate, looking for a different item. And there it was. A practice remote. It would fire lasers in rapid succession, testing her lightsaber skills.

Elated, Jaina continued to examine the package. In it was also a holorecorder, and that was more precious to her than all the others combined. She gingerly removed it from the crate and set it on the floor. She knew she made for quite a sight, sitting like a child on the floor of the hangar bay, but she didn't care. She depressed the button on the recorder excitedly.

Uncle Luke, Jacen, and Anakin appeared on the screen, smiling. "Well, I guess you know by now that we fully intend to help you further your training, despite the distance," Uncle Luke said. "It was Anakin's idea, but we all agreed whole-heartedly."

"I know how much being a good Jedi means to you, Jaina," Anakin said. "I hope this helps make up for everything, even if just a little bit. I tried to get them to let me send a torn-up speeder bike for you to fix, too, but they wouldn't let me."

"We miss you Jaina," Jacen said. "Things aren't the same without you. Not five minutes go by that I don't wonder how you're doing. I hope you're okay. I know you're strong. You can handle this." 

"We're proud of how well you've done," Luke said. "Know that. We haven't forgotten you, and never will. We love you Jaina. May the Force be with you."

The message fizzled out. Jaina ran a tired hand through her hair. She missed them terribly. Maybe she could convince them to let her go visit…

She pushed the thought aside as she saw security approaching her. "Do you require assistance?" they asked.

Jaina stood. She began to shake her head, then stopped herself. "As a matter of fact, I do. Can you have this transported somewhere for me?" 

"Where do you want it sent?" the red-eyed Chiss asked. 

Jaina bit her lip, unsure. There was nowhere to put it in her apartment. What was she supposed to do with it? She remembered abruptly that Spike Squadron had their own gymnasium. It was a long shot, but…maybe he would let her use it, just until she found another place.

"Take it to the Spike Squadron work-room." 

Jaina wasn't home. She wasn't at his parent's. He even checked with Vyqtouria Aberschez. She hadn't seen her in two days. Jag had no idea where she was, and the fact she hadn't informed someone of her whereabouts perturbed him.

He had been given very specific orders to keep track of her. He was supposed to make sure she stayed out of way. How was he supposed to do that when she kept running off?

Frustrated, he sat down on the couch and tried to think of any place she might have gotten off to. Why did she insist on doing this? Why did she have to worry him this way? His brain took a sudden u-turn and examined his previous thought. Worry. Was he worried? No. No, of course not, he was just concerned with making sure he completed his orders correctly.

His comm beeped. "Fel," he said, raising it to his lips.

"Security reports that there has been an intrusion in your Squadron Headquarters."

"An intrusion?"

"Yes, have you authorized any personnel to be there after-hours?"

Jag sighed wearily. He didn't have time for this. "No. I'll go check it out."

"Very well, Colonel. Call if you need backup." The administrator clicked off the connection.

Jag stood. If only crisis's would come one at a time.

Jaina looked at the empty fitness center. It was the perfect place to practice. She had looked for a good ten minutes for the light breakers, but hadn't found them. That was okay. She didn't need to see to practice. She reached out with the Force and pulled one of the safety lightsabers from her battledroid's belt. It would deflect lasers and lightsabers, but wouldn't cut her or the droid. She knew she could deflect blows well enough, but didn't want to harm the new droid.

It was perfectly outfitted for lightsaber combat. It had twenty-different saber techniques programmed into its memory, and a roughly human build that would imitate most bipedal creatures' capabilities well. She adjusted her grip on the lightsaber handle, then ignited it. She swung it experimentally, and when used to the grasp took on a defensive stance. She reached out it the Force and flipped the ON switch on the back of the droid's neck.

It whirred and buzzed, and straightened its metal joints until it stood a good two heads taller than Jaina. It flexed for a few more seconds, then seemed to focus on Jaina. Quickly it grabbed its own saber ignited the blade. For a few seconds the only sound was the thrumming of the two weapons. And then the droid attacked.

It moved with lightning fast speed, and Jaina opened herself fully to the Force allowing it to flow through her. She saw the move before it happened, anticipated it, and planned a counterstrike before the blow ever touched her blade. She was in her rhythm, not even breathing hard as she ducked and slashed and leapt over the droid. After a while of this she began to wonder how far she would be able to go on just her own skills. Since there was no danger of being killed, she dropped her Force-awareness and began to parry and attack on her own.

It was a lot more difficult than she would have guessed. She found herself dodging more than attacking, and only managing to escape by centimeters. She still stayed alive though, and this gave her confidence. She grew more comfortable relying only on herself, and was relishing in being able to protect herself without the Force. When all the lights turned unexpectedly on.

After being in the dark for so long it stunned her eyes and made her lose focus. The droid's harmless blade passed unhindered through her midsection. Sensing it had achieved its goal, it retracted the blade and turned itself back off. Jaina turned around to see Jag standing in the doorway, frowning deeply.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, marching towards her.

Jaina lowered her blade and met his gaze evenly. "I didn't think you'd mind if I borrowed your facilities for a few days. My family sent me this practice droid, and I have nowhere to put it."

"They're not _my _facilities. They're the Ascendancy's. You're lucky they called me before they sent in a squad of armed guards," he retorted.

Jaina raised her chin a few centimeters. "Are you saying I have to move it?"

"No; I'm saying you need to be careful before you break into a military facility, and that you shouldn't run off like this without telling anyone where you are." 

"I don't answer to you," she came back with.

"You do if you don't want us fighting every second for the rest of our lives. There has to be a modicum of deference from each of us, Jaina. You expect to be able to take advantage of my rank because we're married but don't want to treat me with even a little compliance. That's hypocritical."

Jaina was silent for a few minutes. Her first reaction was to deny what he said, but she found it hard to deny the truth. He was right. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "I'll have it moved as soon as possible."

He shook his head. "I didn't say you had to do that. I just want you give me feedback every once and a while. You can't pretend I don't exist."

Jaina rubbed her eyes, suddenly very homesick and ready to go to sleep. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he said. "Come on, let's get out of here. I'm hungry."

Jaina plopped down on the couch with her take-out dinner, and reached automatically for the remote. "Hey," Jag said, "what are you doing?"

"Changing the channel," she said, flipping through the different Holonet stations.

"I was watching that!"

"No you weren't," Jaina scoffed. "You flipped back and forth every five seconds. Ooh, look one of your mother's holodramas is on."

Jag grunted unhappily. "Do you know how many times I've seen this? Come on, turn it back," he made a sudden grab for the control. Jaina jerked away, holding it as far from his grasp as possible, but the quick movement and her momentum sent her tumbling off the couch.

When she sat up, wiping the food off her jumpsuit irritatedly he was laughing so hard he was almost in tears. "Ha ha ha, go ahead, laugh. Yeah, real funny," she mutterd as she stood. "It's your fault anyway."

"My fault?" he laughed.

"Yeah. Trying to take the remote." She gathered the spilled foodstuff and plate off the ground and headed to the kitchen.

"What do you mean, trying?" he asked, his voice thick with humor. Jaina turned and looked as he waved the small black box in her direction. 

"Oh, that's real fair. Knock me off the couch, spill food all over me and then take the remote," she said as she threw the cuisine in the trash.

As she came and sat back down he was still smiling amusedly. She crossed her arms, putting on her best angry face. After a few minutes where she refused to speak some of the humor left his eyes. "Are you really mad?" he scoffed. 

Jaina refused to look at him.

He teased, "You can't be serious. You know that was hilarious."

She stared unmovingly at the projector.

Finally he sighed defeatedly. He reluctantly switched the channel back to the holodrama. "There. Happy?"

Jaina could hold a straight face no longer. A small giggle escaped. Then another. And then she was laughing uncontrollably, holding her side in hilarity. His expression was unamused. "Hey, that's not funny," he huffed.

Jaina nodded her disagreement, but was unable to form words. "Ah, you are so gullible," she said when she was finally able to talk. 

"Gullible? I still have the remote don't I?"

Jaina turned to look at his grinning face. This time she couldn't pretend to care. "Touché. Shockball it is." 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The Fel mansion looked just as picturesque in the day as it did at night. Jaina let her eyes roam over its elegant architecture as she pulled the speeder into the parking bay. She turned the engines off and just sat there a minutes, not wanting to go inside.

It had little to do with Syal, but had everything to do with her at the same time. She had been kinder to Jaina than the rest of the Fel family, but was more intimidating in her own way. Jaina liked her okay, but wanted as little to do with her as possible. She wanted as little to do with all of them as possible. Getting close to Syal Antilles Fel was the last thing she wanted.

But what do you do when she asks you over for lunch? She couldn't turn her down, that was for sure. Jaina may not have been raised by Leia Organa Solo, but she had certainly been given enough lessons to behave like the daughter of a Princess. She knew how to act.

Deciding to take the plunge, she opened the door and stepped outside into the frigid air. Her extremities went immediately numb in the cold, and she hurried to the door. Wyn was waiting when she got there. "Hi!" the little girl said, moving aside so Jaina could come in.

"Hi," Jaina said with less enthusiasm. She slid gratefully out of her bulky coat. She heard footsteps, and turned to see Syal approaching.

"Jaina," Syal smiled, "it's good to see you again. How have things been?" 

"Okay," Jaina nodded, not wanting to elaborate.

"Well, come on inside then. Are you hungry? We were just about to eat." 

Jaina followed Syal into the kitchen. "No, thank you. I'm fine."

Syal didn't eat either, though, but sat down across the table from Jaina. "So," she began, her blue eyes searching Jaina's face, "tell me about married life."

Jaina sat for a moment in silence. This was a conversation she really didn't want to have. What did she expect her to say? "I…" she began, feeling awkward. She scratched the back of her head, wanting to change the subject. "It's different," she said at last. 

Syal grinned like a cat who has just caught a mouse. "I should say so. Tell me, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," Jaina softly.

"Hmm," Syal murmured. "My, my. You're both way too young for this."

Jaina chose wisely to remain silent.

"I hope you have at least become more comfortable around each other. The tension between you was so thick the other night I could have cut the air with a knife. I hate to think you both have been living that way for days."

Jaina looked at her hands, folded in her lap. Unless a question was posed directly at her, she would give Syal nothing to go on. This was not a topic Jaina was comfortable with.

"I don't mean to pry, really, it's none of my business," Syal continued. "I'm just concerned for my son. And you, of course, too. That's really not even what I asked you here to talk about. What I want to know, is how extensive of a wardrobe did your mother send for you?"

Jaina was taken aback. What did that have to do with anything? "I, she, well…she sent quite a lot, but not much of it is to my taste. I was planning on replacing it."

Syal nodded. "Just as I thought. Well, then, come with me." She rose gracefully and left the room. Jaina, perplexed, followed. She led her up a marvelous staircase and through several hallways before opening the door to a room. It was a guest bedroom, richly furnished and plush with luxuries. But what caught her attention was the endless rows of hanging ballgowns.

Jaina moved into the room, awe-struck. She ran a wondering hand across the silk fabric of one, marveling at the smoothness. "What are these for?" she managed finally.

"I know my son too well. He wouldn't have even mentioned it until the day before. A highly decorated General is returning from the outer edges of space, and there's going to be a reception aboard his flagship. The Chiss aren't much for pageantry or fanfare, but love to glorify a warrior. I'm guessing it won't be near as political or lavish as what the New Republic does, but will be a cause for formal attire nonetheless. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of selecting a few dresses for you to choose from. There aren't many places you can by gowns in the Ascendancy, and it would be far easier for me to get them for you than have you look for them yourself."

Jaina was speechless. She suddenly remembered something her mother had once told her. She recalled it vividly because it was one of the few times she had ever had real contact with her. She had been six, probably, and was watching Leia get dressed for a political function. Leia had taken the opportunity to impart a few words of advice for her daughter. _Dresses and jewelry are like ships_, she had said. _The ones that are thought most beautiful are sleek and elegant, not ornamented and clunky. A few ribbons or rhinestones here and there add, but overdo it and it looks as bad as wearing trousers. Ships that are big and bulky move more slowly. It's the same with dresses. You want something small and comfortable, something you can be secure in. You're never more beautiful than when you're at ease with yourself._ Jaina had never forgotten that, and had taken her words to heart.

If her mother's statement was true, Syal had impeccable taste. There wasn't a dress in the room that Jaina wouldn't wear. They all fit her style perfectly. "Thank you so much," she breathed. "I don't know which one to choose."

She moved down the line, looking from dress to dress. After going over the line at least three times, she made her selection. It was long and dark blue, and showed little skin though it would hug her figure. It was simple and tasteful, just upscale enough to pass as formal attire. After thanking Syal profusely, she hurried back to the apartment with the dress in tow.

Jaina was beginning to think that practicing in the middle of the day was a bad idea. She had thought the squadron would be practicing their own maneuvers. She had bee wrong.

They all stared as she walked quietly along the outer edge of the gym. She wanted to hide, to disappear, but it was too late. If only they would stop staring! She gritted her teeth, and opted to not let them dissuade her. Jag had given her permission, therefore she had just as much right there as they did.

She pulled the lightsaber off her belt and ignited the blade with the distinctive snap-hiss. She then flicked on the droid she had been given. It hummed to life, and in a few seconds was ready for combat. Its electronic eyes settled on Jaina as its own blade whirred to life. She pounced first this time, lowering herself into the steady pulse of the Force. She closed her eyes, letting it control her limbs, not even caring which way she went, but moving correctly every time. The droid managed to keep up, but she got the impression that if she pushed she could defeat it.

A sudden clang behind her in the mill of Chiss soldiers caused her to stop suddenly. She switched off the droid with a flick of her hand. All the pilots were staring at her, their red gazes piercing. "How do you do that?" one, a female, said finally.

"The Force," Jaina answered. "It guides me."

"Could you do that without the Force?" another said.

"Not nearly as well," Jaina replied.

"Why are you here?"

Jaina pursed her lips. "Colonel Fel is my husband."

"Did he say you could be here?"

"I did," a new voice interjected. All heads turned to see Jag standing at the far side of the room. "It looks like you've made a captive audience of my pilots," he said, walking slowly towards Jaina.

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jag shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Come on, I need to talk to you anyway."

Jaina followed him back into an office at the other end of the gymnasium. When inside he said, "I hear my mother invited you over today." 

"She did. She was kind enough to give me a dress for the general's reception," Jaina replied, eyeing him closely.

Jag winced. "Sorry. I had been meaning to tell you."

"It's fine. Is that all?"

He shook his head. "What I have to say was pertaining to the general, though. Word was sent today that even though he is returning, there is a definite possibility he will have to go back with reinforcements; even that that is his purpose. If he does, Spike Squadron will go with him."

Jaina nodded, slowly, the implications setting in. "I'll be left by myself." 

"Exactly. I needed to let you know that it was a possibility."

Jaina took a deep breathe. It was what she had wanted, after all. To be left alone. But not with the possibility of Jag's death hanging over her. Now that they had come to an understanding, he wasn't that bad. An unwanted obligation, yes, but she certainly didn't want him to die. But it was only speculation. Maybe he wouldn't even have to go at all. She told him so. He smiled softly. "Maybe you're right."

Jaina had just sat down to eat lunch when her comm center started going off. She sighed, praying it wasn't Jag's secretary. When she depressed the button, it was the last person in the world she had expected.

"Mother?" she managed.

Leia Organa Solo smiled politely. "How are you, dear?"

Jaina didn't know what to say. "How do you think I am?" she snapped before thinking.

The smiled faded from the Chief of State's face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"How would _you_ feel if you had been dropped off on an alien world and married to a complete stranger against your will?" Jaina asked.

Leia scowled. "I get enough of this from your uncle, you know—" 

"Well obviously not enough. I can't believe you would do this to me!" Jaina repressed the tears she felt forming and focused instead on her anger. She would not show any weakness.

"I did it for my people! It was my duty as Chief of State."

"Your duty is to get a peace treaty by whatever means necessary, even selling off your own daughter? Come off it," Jaina scoffed.

"I did not place this call to be spoken to in this manner," Leia hissed. It was the voice she only used when wanting to command complete attention, and had been known to silence riotous Senate debates. It certainly stopped Jaina in mid-rant. "Now. Calm down a bit. I'm sure it's not near as bad as you say." Jaina bit her lower lip until she was afraid it would bleed. "It's a worthy sacrifice for the galaxy. But enough of this. I just wanted to know if you'll be needing any more funds."

Credits. She was wanting to buy off Jaina's forgiveness with credits. Jaina wanted nothing more than to turn them all down, but thought the sweeter revenge would be to take all that she could get. "Yeah. Quite a bit, too. In fact, you might just want to make a monthly deposit into my account. Married life is more expensive than I would have thought."

Leia looked skeptical. "How much is quite a bit?"

"A few thousand, at least."

"Don't you think that's a bit much?"

Jaina put on her best angry-face, which wasn't hard at the moment. "Hey, you asked me, I'm just telling you. I don't think I can get by with less than that."

Leia sighed. "All right then. I'll have it deposited tomorrow."

Jaina didn't reply or offer thanks. She just cut the connection. Feeling drained and less satisfied than she would have hoped, she wearily finished her dinner in peace.

A small tickling at the edge of Jaina's consciousness pulled her from her slumber. She had turned in early, feeling depressed. But something had woken her. A few seconds later she heard it again. "Jag?" she asked softly.

"It's me," he answered quietly. "You can go back to sleep." Jaina rolled over, looking in the direction that his voice came from. She could make out the faint image of him taking off his boots.

"Why'd you come in so late?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Tell me now," she said, sitting up.

"Jaina, just go back to sleep—"

"I'm not going to be able to sleep now anyway. Tell me what's wrong."

He sighed. "One of my pilots was in an accident."

"How bad?" Jaina asked quietly.

"She's in critical condition," he whispered. 

"What happened?"

"They claim she was hit by a stray laser on the shooting range, but I don't think it was an accident," he murmured.

Jaina swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, facing him. "Do you know her well?" 

Jag was quiet for a long time. "She's my best friend." 

"Oh, Jag, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "What's her name?"

"Shawnkyr," he said softly. He buried his head in his hands, and for a minute Jaina thought he might cry. But she heard no sobs even though he emanated agony through the Force. After a few moments of this she got up and went over to where he was sitting and sat on the arm of his chair. A little uneasily, she wrapped a comforting arm around his broad shoulders. He leaned gently against her, taking consolation in the sympathy she offered. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Jaina's leg had a cramp. She tried stretching, but that only brought to her awareness other parts of her body that were uncomfortably positioned. Finally she opened her eyes.

For a second she was too stunned by what she saw to move. She was curled—still—in the chair with Jag, partially atop him. He was asleep, both arms draped loosely over her in such a way that would make it extremely difficult to extract herself without waking him.

The situation was so alarming and awkward she panicked for a moment. She dare not move. Him waking this way would only make things more awkward still. So—very carefully—she lifted one of his arms off her and settled it on the other side of him. Very gently she slid off of him and onto the floor.

She stayed there a minute, breathing hard. What was going on? She didn't want to think about it. the best thing to do would be to pretend it never happened. Ignore it.

She rose and quickly tiptoed out of the room. Once on the other side of the door she leaned back on the doorjamb. This was too much. She needed something to drink.

As she nervously fixed a glass of water she noticed that the light on the message recorder was blinking again. Someone had called in the night. She went over and activated it.

A stony-faced Chiss appeared on the screen. "Colonel Fel, I regret to inform you that Shawnkyr Nuruodo passed on this morning at 0200 hours. As her superior officer, you need to report to the Medical Facility to fill out the appropriate paperwork and body release form. Thank you."

The message fizzled out. Jaina rocked back on her heels and chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. The last thing she wanted to do was break this news to Jag. What was she going to do? Maybe she should just let him find the recording on his own. No. This was just something she had to do.

She looked up as the door to their bedroom swooshed open. Jag stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes drowsily and looking wearier than she had ever seen him look. "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?" she skirted.

"That message."

Jaina debated for a few seconds as how exactly to tell him. Finally she decided she should just be straightforward. That was the kind of person he was. "That was someone from the Med Center," she said softly.

"And?"

"They need you to come fill out some paperwork. Shawnkyr died last night. I'm so sorry."

Much to Jaina's surprise, he showed little outward reaction. He was like a blank wall. He was stoic and rigid, unmoving for several long minutes. And then he nodded, very slowly and with a definite air of sadness. Turning he said, "I guess I need to go change then."

Jaina looked undecidedly through the window of the parked speeder. She turned back to Jag and said, "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

He nodded, but kept his eyes downcast. He didn't look so good, and she was a little worried. He was dropping her off at Touri's shop while he went to the Med Center to fill out the paperwork. He had said almost nothing all morning.

Reluctantly, Jaina climbed out of the speeder. As she closed the door she said, "All right. You don't have to pick me up. I'll just take a hovertaxi." He nodded again and pulled off. Jaina just stood in the cold. Then she shook her head and palmed open the entrance to the store.

She saw no one but could hear a rummaging behind the counter. "Touri, I hope you're under there by yourself," she said, leaning on the counter.

To her surprise, a male voice replied, "I'm not Touri, but I am by myself."

Jaina jumped back as a tall, handsome man stood up, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Who are you?" Jaina asked. 

"Payton," he said, extending his hand. "Touri's my sister."

Jaina shook the hand cautiously. "Where is she?" 

"Vacation. So, what can I do for you?"

She wasn't sure what to say. Mostly, she had just come to talk to her friend. "I just wanted to see Touri. I'll come back another time."

"You sure?" he asked, raising his eyebrows mischievously and grinning wryly. "She has a lot of good sales going on. Come on, let me show you." He left Jaina standing there and headed for the back of the store. She finally decided to follow.

He was waiting for her amongst a group of sales racks. "Everything here is marked down." 

"Thank you," Jaina said. She _did_ have all those extra credits lying around that her mother had sent her.

"No problem," he smiled dashingly again and went back to the counter. 

It was a while before Jaina finished. She didn't really buy all that much, but liked how it took her mind off of things. Payton was waiting when she finished.

"_So_," he began as he rang up her order, "what do you do around here?"

By here she supposed he meant Csilla.

"I'm waiting for a squadron to accept my application. I'm a pilot." It sounded better than, _my parents arranged a political alliance by marrying me off against my will._

He nodded. "I'm a mechanic. I'm just filling in today."

"A mechanic?" Jaina brightened.

And so it went. They talked for well over and hour, laughing and discussing everything from dogfights to food. They talked until Jaina was too hungry to stand up anymore. "I'm sorry," she said, checking her chrono, "I really have to get going. I think I'm going to pass out from hunger."

He grinned again. "It's about time for my lunch break. What do you say to coming with me?"

Jaina was poised to accept when she remembered one very important detail. She wasn't single anymore. And she would never be single again. The full weight of what her mother had done to her settled fully on her then. It wouldn't matter if she was attracted to Payton or any other man, if she ever fell in love. She was irrevocably tied to Jagged Fel, for now and always.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm married, Payton."

His smile faded. "Oh." Then it returned almost as quickly as it had left. "Well, that doesn't mean we can't be friends. Come on, what do you say?"

Jaina hesitated. It felt wrong. But, really, what was the harm in lunch, especially when she had expressed her wish to remain faithful to her wedding vows? Was there any reason they couldn't be just friends?

"I say we need to get going."

Jag looked at the lifeless body of his best friend. He had never in his wildest dreams thought he would actually see this day. Shawnkyr couldn't be gone. She couldn't be dead.

"When have you scheduled the autopsy for?" Jag asked the healer.

"Autopsy?" she frowned.

"You weren't planning to do an autopsy?" he asked, incredulous.

"What's the need? We already know the cause of death."

Jag looked back down at the corpse. He could not shake the feeling that this was more than an accident. For one, Chiss were more accurate with their shots than that. The chance such a precise hit was an accident was almost implausible. The laserbolt that that had killed Shawnkyr had drilled her directly between the shoulder blades. Two, he had learned throughout the years to trust his gut. And right then his gut was telling him that her death had been no accident, but a murder.

"Do the autopsy," Jag ordered at long last. "I want to know the make of the blaster that killed her, along with the power setting and angle of the shot," he commanded.

The doctor saluted crisply, then turned and marched off to prepare for the investigation.

Jag stood over the body of his friend for a few moments longer. He didn't know how he would make it without her. It would be hard, but he would pull through. He had to. He had to find out who had done this to her, and then he would make them pay.

"Thanks for lunch, Payton," Jaina said as she got out of the hovercar. 

"Anytime," he smiled.

She smiled back as he drove off. Realizing what was happening, she wanted to slap herself. She had made a promise, and she intended to keep it. she would not let Jag down.

Jag was waiting inside the apartment. "Hey," she said as she took of her jacket and laid her shopping bags down. 

"Hey," he replied sullenly.

She sat down on the couch beside him, looking him over. "How did it go?"

"They've scheduled the autopsy."

"That's good, I guess. At least you'll be able to find out who did this to her."

"Yeah," he said unenthusiastically. "How was your friend?"

"She wasn't there. It was her brother, Payton."

"Oh." He stood suddenly. "Well, I'm going to work."

"Today?" she frowned.

"Yeah. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay," Jaina replied.

She continued to sit on the couch after he was gone. She didn't know what was going on with him. She didn't even know what was going on with herself. Finally she decided to call Jacen. He would know what to do.

"Jaina!" he exclaimed as the picture resolved. "How'd you like our little gift?"

"I loved it. It's great, Jace."

He beamed at her praise. "So what's up?"

Jaina ran a tired hand over her face. "A lot that I really wish I didn't have to deal with. Jag and I had become friends, somewhat at least. He says he's even going to help me get into a fighter squadron."

"Hey, that's great Jaina—"

"I'm not finished."

"Sorry." 

"It's okay. Last night he came home late, though. His best friend had been shot. We found out this morning that she died during the night."

"That's terrible."

"I know. But he hasn't talked to me since. And…well, Jacen, I'm going to tell you the truth. I met a guy. I really like him, and it's killing me that it can never go anywhere because I am married." 

Jacen remained quiet for several heartbeats, studying her intently. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Jaina. You can't have anything with this guy. Like it or not, you're married. The best thing to do is try to make the best of your marriage and stay away from this other guy. Hanging around him will only make things harder on you."

"You're right. As always," Jaina sighed wistfully. "I always knew this would be difficult. I just didn't know it would be _this_ difficult. It doesn't help any that I miss you guys so much."

"We miss you, too, Jaina. More than I can say. But each day that goes by brings you a little closer to home. Hang on to that."

"I will. I love you, Jacen." 

"I love you, Jaina."

The alarm went off. Jaina didn't even open her eyes. It was for Jag. The mattress shifted as he got up and turned off the ringing chrono. She heard his quiet footsteps retreat into the refresher.

He had been pouring over his work nonstop for days, even when he was at home. He got up early and came home late, and spoke less than ten words to her a day. She didn't think it was a slight, per say, but more like he was just too distracted. His mind was elsewhere most of the time, that she could tell.

Unable to stop her whirring thoughts, she reluctantly threw off the covers and got up. Jag was still in the shower, so she ordered breakfast. It arrived just as he finished. 

"What's this?" he asked.

"Breakfast," she said as cheerfully as possible. "Hungry?"

"Not really," he said. "Thanks anyway, but I think I'm going on to work, okay?" 

"No," Jaina said.

"What?"

"I said no; it's not okay. Sit down."

He looked at her as if she had just swallowed a bantha. Very slowly he sat down. "What is this all about, Jaina?"

"This is about why you're treating me like Shawnkyr's death was my fault. I thought we had actually been getting along. Why are you doing this?"

He just looked at her. And then he looked away. "I don't know. That's not how I feel. I've just thrown myself into my work. It's easier to forget about it that way. I'm not trying to alienate you. I just…I don't want to deal with this whole marriage thing right now." 

Jaina nodded, understanding. "And that's okay. Just tell me that so I'm not wondering what happened, all right?"

He smiled slightly. "All right."

Jag knocked on the door, again. "Just a second!" she yelled for the umpteenth time.

"We only have five more minutes!" he yelled back. 

She sighed. Yes, she had been locked in the bedroom for the past three hours, but that was no reason fro him to ask if she was ready every five minutes. "You've been saying that for an hour." 

"Okay, so we're an hour late. Come on Jaina, how long could this take?"

Jaina chose to ignore the question. She looked in the mirror one last time. It had taken her one of the three hours to decide what to do with her hair. She had at long last settled on leaving it the way it was, down and straight.

Then it took another hour to get the dress to fit right and choose the right combination of jewelry. The last was spent on makeup. She wasn't even sure why she tried, and stopped to ponder that n itself several times.

Deciding there wasn't much more she could do to delay, she opened the bedroom door. Jag stood outside his back to her. For a moment she let herself forget the circumstances and just admired the way he looked in that tux, the way it accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. And then she was back to reality, and he was just Jag again.

He turned around, and then just froze that way. Quickly regaining his composure, he cleared his throat. "What?" Jaina asked, wondered what was wrong with him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, still staring at the dress. "Trust me, nothing. I'm just glad you're ready." 

Jaina nodded, a little disappointed and not sure why. He hurried her into her coat and out the door, and soon they were on their way to the docking bay.

"So, how long is this little extravaganza supposed to last?" she asked on the ride there. 

"Several hours, at least. It goes by faster than you would think, though, so don't worry."

Jaina laughed.

"What?" he smirked.

"I wasn't worrying, Jag. Boy, you all sure dislike this an awful lot to make such a fuss over it."

Jag fiddled with his tie. "We believe in recognizing valor and bravery, even though we dislike the pageantry."

Jaina sighed and moved his struggling hands away from tie and began to fix it herself. "And we believe that when something good happens you should celebrate. Make the best of those moments because they are so rare." 

When she looked up she found his too close green eyes staring back at her, and a sudden chill ran down her spine. She withdrew her hands quickly and folded them in her lap, staring at the back of the seat in front of her. The air was punctuated by silence until they reached the port.

Jaina watched Csilla shrink beneath them and the shuttle. It was the first time she had been offworld since she first arrived, and the experience was invigorating. Even though its snow-capped peaks and icy plains were beautiful, she ached to see the glowing megalopolis of Coruscant in the viewport.

The General's flagship was of a design completely unfamiliar to Jaina, as most of the Chiss ships were. It was as large as a Victory-class Star Destroyer, but far more elegant in appearance. The inside however was much the same: streamlined and efficient.

They were led to a Grand Reception Hall, where there were more Chiss gathered together in one place than she had seen on Csilla yet. Most were in military dress uniform, but a few were in civilian garb. 

Such as Syal Antilles.

She was decked out in an graceful but eye-catchingly stunning gown and stood out in the blue-skinned crowd like a Hutt at a Wookiee family reunion. Her smile grew even broader as she saw Jaina and Jag coming. "Jaina, you look lovely," she beamed.

"Thank you, so do you," Jaina replied.

"Jag," she said, turning to her son, "You look so handsome. You know how to make a mother proud."

Jag bent to kiss his mother's upturned cheek. "And you're beautiful as always. Where is Father?"

Syal nodded to a knot of males across the room. "Go ahead," she urged. Then taking Jaina by the arm she said, "Jaina can stay and talk to me." Jag bowed slightly to the pair and then went off in the indicated direction.

"Now," Syal said, leading Jaina towards an unoccupied table, "tell me how things have been since poor Shawnkyr's death."

Jaina sat before replying. "Better than they were. I get the feeling that he's always thinking about something else, though."

Syal nodded thoughtfully. "He's probably figuring out some way to prove that she was murdered. He never was good at letting go. When my poor Davin died…" the older woman trailed off, as if unable to finish the thought. "Well. Jag is strong. He'll recover soon enough."

"So where is Cem this eveni—"

"_Shh_!" Syal hissed, cutting her off hurriedly. "Do not speak of him in public."

"Why not?"

Syal looked nervous. "I'll explain it to you some other time."

"Okay," Jaina said reluctantly.

Suddenly all the people began to move to the tables to eat. Jag and the Baron returned and took seats beside Jaina and Syal. The food was brought out quickly. Even though the taste was not entirely unpleasant, Jaina had a hard time with the foreign flavor. She ate as much as she could to be polite, but only just enough. When most everyone had struck up conversation again after they were finished the General decided to make his announcements. 

When he stepped behind the podium the first thought to enter Jaina's mind was that he was not to be trusted. She tried to shake it off, but it persisted, even as he spoke she probed him with the Force. She found his mind confusing and almost completely unreadable. It was terribly frustrating. At the look of concentration on her face Jag asked her what was wrong.

Jaina waved off his concern. "Just the Force. Something about him is just not right…" 

"What do you mean, 'not right'?" Jag pressed.

Jaina shrugged. "I haven't figured it out yet."

He gave her a skeptical look but said nothing more on the subject.

After he was done people began to mingle about a bit. Jaina remained seated, more comfortable out of sight. Suddenly Jag stood, and gestured for her to do likewise. "Why?" she asked.

"Just come with me," he smiled slightly.

A little curious, she took his proffered hand and let him lead her away. He led her through several hallways before finally coming to a set off doors. Jaina thought she heard the drone of music behind them. "What's this?" she asked. 

"This," he grinned ruefully, "is where humans go after such festivities."

"Humans? I thought you were the only ones."

"Not in the whole military, no. There are hundreds. And they can be…different."

"How different?" Jaina asked, feeling suddenly adventurous.

"Quite different. Take a look for yourself." He then opened one of the doors just wide enough for the two of them to slide through then shut it quickly. Inside was something Jaina never thought she would see anywhere in Chiss space. It was full of young Chiss men and women, all laughing and having a good time. There were several sabaac tables, a dejarik board, and some low tech simulators without hoods or pods, just the screen and controls.

"Wow," Jaina said. "Definitely not what I expected."

"I thought you would like it."

They milled about for a while, trying to blend in as best as possible. Soon Jag became embroiled in a simulated podracing match, and Jaina was left to her own devices. Feeling oddly liberated, she cast her lot in a sabaac table. She had played several times against her Uncle Lando, and he was a 'professional'. She knew the ropes of the game, and also knew that she had to have inherited some of her father's infamous luck.

Before long she had compiled such an amount that most people had stopped what they were doing to observe the game. It came down to her and another young woman hailing from Nal Hutta. In the end Jaina won the game by quite a slim margin. She turned down the credits, though, giving them back to her opponent. What did she need them for?

When it was over she found Jag in the crowd. He was grinning broadly. "Who taught you to play sabaac?" he asked.

"My Uncle Lando Calrissian. Impressed?" she smirked.

"Maybe," he said with just the right tinge of sarcasm. "So. Ready to turn in?" 

Jaina shook her head. She looked around the room, looking for one last dance before she left.

Dance.

She slowly turned to look back at Jag, her smile mischievous and playful. "Dance with me."

His brow furrowed and he looked around, as if for an out. "I don't really think that's such a good idea." 

"Oh, come on, what are you afraid of?" she joked. "Just one dance and I'll never ask you again." He still looked skeptical. She sighed. "It'll be fun, and you know it."

Jag shrugged reluctantly and let her drag him out onto the floor with the others. Jaina enjoyed his nervousness immensely as she wrapped her arms humorously around him. Then she noted with less amusement the queasy feeling in her stomach as she felt his hand come to rest on the small of her back. She could feel the tenseness of his muscles even through the jacket, and it sent another set of chills down her back. And boy, he smelled _really_ good…

Oh _no_. Was she _falling_ for him?

She tensed immediately, her thoughts a jumbled mass of panicking emotions. She jumped back away from him, flustered beyond compare. He gave her a concerned look, but before he could speak she said, "I'll be right back."

She turned and ran, and finally found refuge in the public 'fresher. She went in, checked for other occupants, and locked the door. Despairing, she leaned against the wall and let herself sink to the floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them protectively. This couldn't be happening. No, no, she couldn't feel that way.

Could she?

She drew her hands up to her mouth in shock. She didn't know what to do. What was she to do? How could she have let this happen? _When_ had it happened? And what did it all mean?

She didn't want to know any of it. She wanted to go home. She didn't want to deal with Jag, or the Fels, or the Chiss. She wanted Jacen more than ever. So she reached out it the Force and touched him through their twin bond, calling him to her rescue. His response was like a giant question mark. What was wrong? She poured her anxiety and frustration into the bond, and he responded with comfort and soothing thoughts. She let herself drown in his calming aura, and after a few minutes was a little more rational. She cut the connection grudgingly and stood. She would just pretend that nothing had changed. Everything was exactly as it had been minutes before.

She left the refresher and went in search of Jag through the crowd. When she found him he was not alone. A Chiss officer was conferring softly with him, and then the alien handed him a set of papers. He saluted crisply and left. "What was that?" Jaina asked.

Jag gave her a pained look. "I have to go."

"Where?"

"To war."

Jaina was taken aback. "Now?"

"This minute. The General made an announcement. I can't even go back to Csilla. We're deporting immediately."

Jaina took a step back. "When will you be coming home?"

He shook his head sadly. "I can't answer that."

She wanted to cry and vomit and scream all at the same time. Why did this all have to happen to _her_? "Be…" she stammered, cutting of her tear ducts to keep the revealing liquid at bay, "be careful, okay?"

He nodded and smiled softly. "I will."

She then let her decorous pretense fall, and hugged him fiercely. He returned her embrace softly. "You better come back."

He gave her no answer. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The apartment was uncomfortably empty. Jaina felt his absence keenly already, and she had only just arrived back onplanet. She lay awake in the oversized bed, staring at the ceiling and pondering the Star Destroyer collision that was her life.

All she wanted was to be normal. She knew she could never be completely so simply because of her lineage, but was relative normality too much to ask? She wanted to be a pilot or a mechanic. She wanted to do things that girls her age did. But mostly she just wanted her family back.

She supposed that she had held up especially well considering the circumstances. She had grown up without a mother or father, though given the choice she wouldn't have traded her Uncle Luke for wither of them. But she had been reasonably happy with her life. Then all that had been uprooted and torn from her as she was thrown into a completely alien environment. She was forced to marry and live with complete stranger. There was no flexibility in her life. She couldn't date like normal teens. She was already married.

Eventually she had come to terms with all of that. She had accepted Jag as a friend, if nothing else. She was fairly content with the life she had to lead. But now all of that had been taken too.

Why did everything always have to happen to her?

That was the question that repeated itself over and over in her head. Why? It was as if the universe would not be satisfied until every facet of her life had been stripped from her and destroyed. Would she even _want_ to live when it was over?

She rolled over onto her side, staring at the refresher door. A fear worse than the others niggled at the back of her mind. What if Jag didn't come back? What would she do then? Would they send her home? That thought brought a little comfort to her gloomy mood, but she knew even then that things would never be the same. Maybe they would just keep her on Csilla, though. Then she would be left alone and abandoned, living a solitary life for the rest of her days.

No. She had friends. Touri was her friend. And…Payton was her friend, too. Jacen's advice gave her pause, but on this occasion she chose to ignore it. She needed someone to talk to. She certainly couldn't talk to Syal. And until Touri got back, she was going to need Payton to get through this.

She sat at the café booth, stirring her drink lackadaisically with the straw. Payton had agreed enthusiastically to have lunch with her, but Jaina was still a little apprehensive. Should she be doing this, especially with Jag away?

What would it matter if he never came home?

The door slid open and Payton stepped through. He smiled broadly when he saw her, and she managed a small grin. "Hey," he said as he sat down.

"Hey," she replied.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Jaina sighed and sat back. "Nothing. I was just feeling a little lonely. They deported Jag last night with the rest."

"Ooh," he said. "Sorry."

"Thanks. I don't want to talk about it though. Hungry?"

"Starved."

They had a comfortable lunch with easy laughter and plenty of smiles. It almost made Jaina forget her misery. So when they finished eating they just sat and talked for hours on end. She dreaded the time when he would have to leave because then she would be left alone with her despair. 

Finally he sighed in that way people sigh when they have to do something they don't want to. He looked up and grinned sadly. "It's late, Jaina. I need to go."

"I know," she replied. "I just hate going back to that place and sit by myself until it's time to go to bed."

He sat back and studied her intently. "Can't you go stay with your inlaws?"

"They haven't offered," she replied. "I'm not sure I would go, anyways."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. Syal is nice enough, but I feel uncomfortable around the Baron. Life would be too tense, I guess," she mused.

"Well, just give me a call if you need anything," he said as he stood.

"Thanks," she replied.

And then he left.

Jaina continued to sit at the booth. It was times like these that she was most confused about herself. When she was around him, it seemed like Payton would have been the perfect man for her. But the night before she thought she had begun to feel something for Jag…

It was all too confusing. They were both handsome and affable. They each had their own sense of humor and she connected to them each in their own way. But it was a moot point, she realized. Nothing could ever come of any feelings she might have for Payton or any other man. Jag was it. She had no choice.

When she got back to the apartment there was a message waiting. It was from Jag. "Hey," he said softly. "We're just about to go on our first offensive, and the Commander said we should say our goodbyes, in case we don't come back." There was a long pause when he just seemed to be staring through time and space, right to her soul. "I hope everything's going okay. I know Mother would be happy to help you with anything you need." Another pause. "Listen, I'm not really sure what to say. If I do die, I honestly don't know what will happen to you. I would hope you would get to go where you want. But I don't know. I guess as far as goodbyes, there's not much to say. I think you're a good person, Jaina, and I'm glad I got the chance to meet you. I'll try to let you know whether I lived or not as soon as possible," he said with a slight smirk. Jaina laughed in spite of herself. The message faded.

She hated that she had missed his call. She would have loved to wish him good luck in person. But hopefully he would be home soon anyway, and then things could go back to normal.

"So when does Touri get back?" she asked. "She's been gone a long time." 

Payton shrugged. "Said she was tired of the Chiss rote and wanted to get out for a while. Didn't say when she would be back, just to take care of the shop while she was gone. I've only gotten one message, to say that she was okay."

"Where did she go?"

"Chandrilla, I think."

Jaina smiled. "She'd like it there. It's such a beautiful planet."

"I guess she does, considering how long she's been away. I'm beginning to wonder if she'll ever come back," he laughed. 

Jaina didn't find it funny. The fact that her friend had just disappeared like that was alarming for a reason that she could not put her finger on. It was that small Force-tug again, but it eluded her every attempt to capture it. She supposed that she would just have to wait until the actual problem presented itself before trying to fix it.

She had been leaning on Payton for companionship a lot in the month that Jag had been gone. He helped to assuage some of her loneliness, but that was all. To her complete surprise, she grew no closer to a relationship with him the whole time. In fact, if his presence did anything it was make her miss Jag even more. Payton was great, that was for sure. But he wasn't Jag. She hadn't know how much she had come to rely on him in the weeks they had spent before he had departed. It seemed that in the absence of anyone else to depend on she had leaned on him. And no matter how much he made her laugh, or how much she agonized over the fact that she and Payton were so unmistakable _made_ for each other, he could just never completely fill the whole left in her life.

But he helped. She didn't have to be alone. He was always there to talk to. He was such a good listener, too. It only made him more attractive. It became so that he was at her apartment almost everyday. They would cook and eat dinner together, and laugh and play dejarik until it was time for him to leave. After he left she always hated to go and lie by herself in that oversized bed.

And that was the root of it. She knew without a doubt that—even though he had never spoken it—if she ever wanted to take that extra step forward he was there waiting. He didn't push or press or show any indication of wanting to be something more, but she knew he did. She could _feel_ it. The problem was deciding what _she_ wanted.

Did she want that?

"You okay?" he asked, jerking her out of her reverie.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I was just thinking about Jag."

He eyed her speculatively. "Do you miss him?"

Jaina sighed, considering the question. "I miss him being here," she said finally.

He nodded, as if it was the answer he had been expecting.

Jaina sipped the cup of caf Syal had offered her. It was warm and soothing, and made her feel snug all over. She smiled and set it back down on the table. They were in the kitchen of the Fel family mansion, as Jaina had been invited there for dinner. She hadn't been invited since Jag left, and so the invitation was both unexpected as well suspicious. Suspicious as in she was wary of the motive.

What increased her reservations was the fact that no one except Syal was present, and the dinner was anything but formal. Still, if there was a bombshell, it hadn't been dropped or even hinted at so far. 

"So," Jaina began, trying to pull the reason for the invitation from her host, "is there a reason you asked me here tonight?"

Syal looked calculatingly over the rim of her cup. "As a matter of fact, there is."

When there was no indication of her continuing, Jaina gestured for her to proceed. 

Syal sat the cup down and studied Jaina intently. "I understand you have been spending quite a lot of time with Mr. Calaborskai."

Jaina raised a single eyebrow. That was one thing she had not expected this to be about. "He's a good friend."

Syal sighed. "I'm not judging you, Jaina, or admonishing you. I cannot even imagine being put in your position. Rather, I am going to say this for your own good, as well as for the good of my son. I do not like the relationship you are pursuing with this man."

Jaina frowned. "Pursuing? What, exactly, do you think I am pursuing?"

Syal frowned back. "Do not take me to be naïve."

"There is absolutely nothing between us, Syal. He's never touched me."

"Yet." 

Jaina was getting angry. "I have no intention of practicing infidelity."

Syal's expression was sad. "Jaina, being unfaithful does not have to constitute a physical relationship. All it takes is that one moment of desire."

Jaina stood, not wanting to hear what she was saying. "I haven't been disloyal!" 

Syal stood then too, the look in her eyes determined. "I'm not scolding you like a child, Jaina. I believe you have the best intentions. But I'm afraid that if this goes on it won't stay that way."

"You can trust me, Syal. I may not love Jag, but I respect him. I wouldn't do that."

"I do trust you, Jaina. It's Payton that I do not trust."

That gave Jaina pause. "Why?"

Syal sat wearily. "I do not know. But I think you should stay away from him."

"But he's been such a good friend. I just cannot write him off." She would not just write him off.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"Really, Syal, you have no need to worry." 

"That is not why I worry."

Jaina looked at the older woman curiously. "Then why?"

Syal raised her head and meant Jaina's stare squarely. Jaina could see then the heaviness in her gaze, the worry behind the eyes. Syal was truly troubled. "I am worried because I received a message today. Jag is coming home."

Jaina stepped back. She had received no such information. "That's wonderful. Why does that worry you?" 

"Because if you cannot let Payton go now, I worry that you won't be able to give him up when Jag returns." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The clawcraft made a slow, smooth descent into the landing bay. It settled down gently with out a hint of turbulence, so effortless that it almost seemed to float. Jaina smiled. Only a pilot as good as Jag could make a fighter dance like that.

She found herself growing more and more impatient as he went through his shutdown sequence. She missed him terribly, and was eager to see him alive and well. The canopy to the snubfighter popped open, and her husband climbed out. She hurried to the ladder as he descended. He had no sooner let his boots hit the ferrocrete than she had wrapped him in a fierce hug. He chuckled as he returned her embrace. "Happy to see me?"

Jaina backed away and followed through by punching him soundly on the shoulder. "You had me worried sick! I shouldn't even be speaking to you."

He frowned. "What?"

"You know exactly what. Telling your mother you're coming home and not me. She wouldn't tell me why you were coming back so soon. I didn't know if you were hurt, or maimed, or coming back in a body bag…" 

Jag laughed. "She wasn't supposed to tell you anything. I guess she let the coming home part slip and then decided she shouldn't divulge anything else."

_Or she just wanted to punish me_, Jaina thought. "Why wasn't I supposed to know?" 

He shrugged. "I was just going to surprise you. I have to go back in two weeks, though."

Jaina's heart sunk. "No. I don't want to go through this again."

"Sorry." 

Jaina felt like weeping. And she had been so relieved. How many times was she going to have to endure this. "If that's the way it has to be I would have rather you not come home at all." She saw the sting of her words immediately. "Oh, Jag. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

"I know," he said, but the happiness had faded from his countenance. "I know this has to be rough on you."

Jaina just nodded.

Jag sighed. "Come on. Let's go home."

"What are these?" Jag asked.

Jaina looked up from where she sat on the couch. "What are what?"

Jag waved a stack of papers addressed to him in the air.

"Oh, those," Jaina said. "I'm not sure. I was told to that I wasn't to read them because they were confidential. They came a few days after you left."

"Hm," Jag said, flipping through the enveloped flimsiplast documents. He took a seat on the couch beside her. Finding the one that he wanted, he tore the seal and began to scan its contents. Jaina could feel his mood shift drastically in the Force.

"What? What's wrong?"

"There's been another murder with the same kind of characteristics as Shawnkyr's. I'm supposed to report to the lab to review the details."

"You're leaving already?" Jaina asked, disappointed.

Jag shrugged helplessly. "I have to take care of this. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you when I get back."

Jaina continued to pout as he got ready. He turned to her as he put on his coat. "I'm sorry, Jaina." She didn't answer. He left.

Jag looked at the draped body. He was seeing far too many of these lately. It was covered from head to toe with a white sheet, so he had no way of distinguishing the gender. Still, it pained him to know that one of his fellow soldiers had been slain like Shawnkyr. He knew the grief that their family must be going through. He pitied them.

"How were they killed?" he asked the scientist.

"A blaster wound to the back of the head seems to be the cause of death. Afterwards the murderer tried to dispose of the body in the furnaces, though. Luckily, one of the worker droids saw the perpetrator throw the body in and retrieved it before it could be completely incinerated. The burning is severe, however, and we have not yet been able to identify them."

Jag gave the scientist a skeptical look. "There have been no missing persons reports?"

"Of course there have. There is at least one every day, but most turn out to be accidents or runaways. None of them have checked out with this individual."

"Are there any links with this death and Shawnkyr's except for the fact that both were shot?" Jag questioned.

The doctor shook her head sadly. "Nothing. We might have been able to match the blasters, but the burning this one received prevented any chance of that. We're at a loss."

Jag fumed in silence. He wanted this predator caught and punished, and soon. He didn't think he could stand for another victim. "Any motives or links?"

" None as of yet, but we're still working on that one. It might be our only hope of catching this maniac."

Jag let out a long breathe. This was the last thing he needed to be dealing with. In times like these he would turn for Shawnkyr for support. Now he had no one. All he had was his anger to fuel him. He would carry on until her death was properly avenged. "Do the best you can. I know that we can crack this. The problem is whether or not we can do it in time."

"I feel like even though we meet obstacles, we grow closer everyday."

Jag nodded. "This guy can't hide forever."

Jaina was still on the couch when he got home, but she was asleep. He sat down in the chair across from where she lay and studied her for a moment. She looked far younger when asleep, like the innocent teen she was. He hated that she had to go through this.

When he had left over a month before, he had thought of nothing but her while he waited out the hyperspace ride in his clawcraft. That night had been different. It had changed them. He hadn't been given the chance to find out how. He wasn't sure he wanted to. What he did know was that he had seen her for the first time as more than an obligation. That scared him.

He wondered what he would have thought of her under different circumstances. Would they have actually gotten along? Possibly. He liked to think so. Jag wasn't one for flights of fancy, but when it came to Jaina he found himself constantly reverting to the _what ifs_. He supposed that he could have gotten worse. She was mind-numbingly stubborn and self-willed, but that made her oddly refreshing. He had never met anyone like Jaina Solo before.

He had worried while he was away. He had worried mostly about what would become of her if he didn't return. He doubted that the Chiss would see it as a reason to send her home. She had been given to them, and they didn't intend to return her for fear of offending the New republic.

She stirred in her sleep, and a few seconds later her eyelids fluttered open. She turned her head to look at him. She smiled that lopsided smile that was so characteristically _her_ and then rubbed her eyes sleepily. "How did it go?" she asked.

"No substantial leads."

"Ah, well. You'll find them sooner or later. I know you will."

Jag smiled at her praise. "I hope so."

"Payton came by while you were gone," Jaina said suddenly.

"Who?" Jag asked.

"Payton. Touri's brother."

"Oh, yeah. What did he want?"

"He didn't know you had come home."

Jag frowned, confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Jaina sighed, and looked uncomfortable. "I've hung around with him a lot while you were gone. He was coming to eat dinner with me."

Something about the way se said that gave Jag an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, one he was not accustomed to and had no idea what it was from. "Oh," was all he could think to say. Finally he managed, "You could have let him stay. I would have liked to have met him."

Jaina looked surprised. "Really?"

"Why not?" Jag shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I could thank him for taking care of you while I was gone."

Jaina snorted derisively and rolled off the couch. She stood and looked down at him playfully. "Do I need taken care of?"

Jag smiled. "Everyone needs someone to take care of them once and a while." 

Jaina crouched beside his chair and rested her chin on the arm. Her face was still playful but there was no mistaking the seriousness in her amber eyes. "Are you my someone, Jagged Fel?" she asked, but the question seemed to be more directed at herself than at him.

He grinned softly, a slight tweaking at the corner of his mouth, but that was his only answer.

"I don't like it. I don't like it at _al_l," his mother insisted. "If you take my advice you will watch that man very carefully."

Jag sighed at the hologram of Syal Antilles Fel. "I trust that Jaina would never do that," Jag insisted. 

"Every woman has her faults. Jaina is a sweet child, but she's been put in a situation where her judgment may be less than adequate."

Jag shook his head. He would deny the possibility until proven otherwise, but could not kill the niggling doubt placed in his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He supposed he would just have to try harder. "Still, I believe that those are not her intentions."

"Many things happen that are not intended," Syal said.

"Goodbye, Mother," Jag said, tired of the warnings.

"Listen to what I'm saying. Will you at least do that?"

Jag nodded a curt affirmation, then cut the connection. He sat back in the chair. After a few seconds of considering her words, he banished them from his mind. He wouldn't believe it.

"Ready?" Jaina's voice called from outside the bedroom.

"Yeah," Jag said, then stood and walked into the living area. She already had her coat on and was waiting for him at the door. She smiled as he neared.

"How was Syal?" 

Jag shrugged. "Same as always," he said evasively. 

Jaina raised one brow but asked nothing further. She waited patiently for him to put on his coat, then they exited the building. Outside their speeder was waiting. Jag slid in behind the pilot's controls and started it up. In a matter of seconds they were on their way.

"I'm hungry," Jaina commented.

"That's good, since we're going to eat," Jag replied. Jaina rolled her eyes, and Jag laughed.

They were soon at the tapcafé where they were to meet Payton. Jag got out first, then opened the door for Jaina and helped her out. Inside it was crowded and busy, but they soon found Payton waiting for them. He was a tall man, brown hair and blue eyes, handsome. They shook hands, but there was no mistaking the smirk behind his eyes. Jag stiffened, and felt suddenly a little protective. He did not like this guy.

"I want to thank you for keeping Jaina company while I was away," Jag said anyway as they sat.

Payton shrugged it off. "It was nothing so admirable. I enjoy spending time with her."

Jag tried to suppress a frown. "Still, I am in your debt."

Payton smiled. "Forget it. Nothing so ceremonial."

Jag didn't press again.

"So, Jag, when do you have to ship out again?" he asked as the drink were brought.

Jag eyed him carefully. "A while."

Payton laughed. "Okay."

The conversation continued, mostly between Payton and Jaina with Jag interjecting a comment now and then. Mostly he observed, looking for the suspicious behavior his mother had warned him against. He saw none, on Jaina's part at least, except a casual friendship. 

"Well," Payton said as they finished, "it was very good to get to meet you, Colonel."

"Likewise," Jag said, and shook his hand again.

"Well," Jaina asked when he was gone, "what do you think?"

"He seems friendly enough," Jag said.

"So," Jaina continued carefully, "you don't care that I'm friends with him?"

"No," Jag said. Then, "Why should I?"

Jaina shrugged. "Just something your mother had said. Come on, let's go home. I'm tired." 

"I'm right behind you," Jag said as he followed her out the door.

"So, I was thinking," Jaina began as she sat down with a plop on the couch beside Jag.

"Uh-oh," he said, laying the datapad he was reading down.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Come on. This is a good one."

"Okay," Jag said overdramatically. "Go ahead."

Jaina smiled. "You put me on that waiting list for a squadron to pick me up, right?" 

Jag nodded, wondering where she was going with this.

"And we both hate wondering what's going on with the other while you're off fighting, right?" she continued.

Jag eyed her dubiously.

"Well," Jaina said, "why don't I just join your squadron?"

Jag was quiet for a minute, trying to come up with some sort of answer and a reason to back it.

"What?" Jaina asked. "What's wrong?"

"I…" Jag hesitated. "I'm just not sure it's the best idea."

"Why?" 

"For one, mine is a very elite squadron, and you are a green pilot. I don't want to be accused of nepotism."

"You won't be if I try out like everyone else," Jaina argued. 

"_Second_," Jag continued, "I don't think our relationship can handle anymore bumps. I don't think you would enjoy taking orders from the man you were forced to marry."

Jaina sat up a little straighter. "In a marriage, no. But when you're my superior officer, when we're nothing but commander and pilot, I don't have a problem with it."

Jag gave her an ambiguous look.

"Come on, Jag, _please_. It would solve so many of our problems. We won't have to be separated by wars ever again. I can look at you every day and know that you're okay. You can't tell me that that wouldn't prove a load off of your mind."

She was right on that count, at least. Maybe she had something going, there. It was something to consider, at any rate.

"You don't even have to make it an order. Just put my name on the list of people you are considering and I'll make sure there's no logical way for you to refuse," she promised.

Jag sighed in defeat. "Okay."

She smiled triumphantly and hugged him fiercely. "Thank you, Jag. You won't regret it, I promise." 

Somehow, he believed her.

Jag had let her come to work. She spent most of the day running sims against his pilots, and smoking most of them. Even though he said nothing, Jaina could tell he was proud. If nothing else, she had proved a good distraction for the pilots while he finished catching up on his paperwork. Most of them crowded around the simulator pods and watched the monitors to see who could beat the 'outsider'.

As Jag let them go for the day Jaina sat down tiredly on the edge of his desk. "So, where to for dinner?"

"You mean you're not going to whip up a delicious three course meal from scratch and have it ready by the time I get home?" Jag asked humorously, not even looking up from his work.

"Sure," Jaina said. "You know what a wonderful cook I am," she smirked. Her first and last attempt at cooking had ended in nothing more than a smoke-filled apartment.

Jag looked up then. "How about we just order in? I don't feel like going out."

"Okay," she said, sliding off the desk. "I guess I can—"

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," Jag said. To the surprise of them both, it was Payton.

"Hi, guys," he said.

"Hey," Jaina said, wondering what he was doing.

"I was just wondering if you all would like to join me for dinner."

Jaina looked at Jag. The look he gave her back was decidedly negative. She turned back to Payton. "Actually, we had just decided to eat in. Sorry. Maybe some other time."

He looked disappointed, and Jaina felt bad. "That's okay," he said. "I guess I'll see you later."

"Okay," Jaina responded.

"Well, you handled that a lot better than I thought," Jag commented. 

"He's nice and everything, but now that you're back I really don't feel like hanging out all the time like he wants to. This is the third time in as many days he's asked me to do something. I just can't anymore. I'm too busy."

Jag turned off his datapad and stood. "That's understandable. You have nothing to feel bad about."

"I guess not. That doesn't make it easy though."

"If it was, you wouldn't be such a sweet person."

Jaina levitated. Sometimes one just needed to meditate, and practicing her Jedi skills at the same time was a bonus. She was at the Spike Squadron fitness area, alone. Jag would pick her up in about ten minutes, but until then she just wanted to center herself.

She had found a calm in the last few days that had been previously lost to her. It was the calm of knowing yourself. Since Jag had returned, all her previous doubts had faded away. She still didn't know what would have happened during different circumstances, but she knew now that Payton just didn't complete her the way Jag did. She was never as at ease, never so sure of herself and her place in the universe than when she was with Jag. Payton just didn't do that for her. The knowledge was filling.

She heard the sound of the door swooshing open. She opened her eyes, expecting to see Jag waiting for her. But the person in the doorway was not Jag, but Payton.

Jaina extended her legs until they touched the floor, then stood on her own two feet. "Payton," she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?" 

"I came to talk to you."

"Can it wait? Because Jag's going to be here any minute—"

"That's what I came to talk to you about," he cut her off. He moved to where he stood over her, almost an intimidating posture. Jaina felt slightly uncomfortable. "What has he said t make you ignore me since he's come home?"

"What?" Jaina asked, incredulous. "He hasn't done anything. I've just been so busy—"

"_Ktah_!" he spat. "I know better. You don't have to lie, Jaina. You can tell me."

"Tell you what?" Jaina asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

"Tell me how you feel."

Jaina almost laughed. "Payton, if you're thinking that I'm in love with you—"

"I'm not thinking," he said. "I know. I can see it in your eyes." 

Jaina was appalled. "How dare you try to tell me what I feel—"

Her protests were cut off as he grabbed her suddenly and kissed her forcefully, running his tongue down her throat. Jaina was so shocked and revolted that for a minute she couldn't even move, didn't know what to do. She then she shoved him away, using Force-amplified strength to pry him off of her. Before she could reach for her lightsaber, intending nothing less than castration, she saw something in the corner of her vision. 

Jag.

He his eyes were wide with shock, his face pale with anger and hurt. Jaina felt her heart melt into the floor, knowing what he must have seen. "Jag, no," she began, taking a step forward, but he had already turned and left. "Jag!" she screamed, her heart shattering like transparisteel. But he was gone. 

"It's okay, he needed to know," Payton said from behind her. Jaina spun on him, her lightsaber ignited and held under his throat before he ever knew what was coming.

"Know what? He already knew that you were a spineless, nerf-smelling mynock. If you weren't such a pitiful waste of time I would cut your lewd tongue from your mouth." With that she extinguished the blade and ran from the building to find her husband.

He wasn't at home. He wasn't at his parent's. He wasn't at the office. She had no idea where he could be, and every moment that went by drew her a little closer to insanity. She couldn't believe what had happened, and her anxiety was so great that she must have burst into tears five different times. It grew worse and worse as the hours went by. Some time around midnight she heard the door open.

She jumped from the bed and ran out of the room, but pulled up short as she entered the kitchen. He looked terrible, and didn't even look up as she entered, just continued to slowly take off his coat. "Jag, let me explain…"

"There's nothing to explain," he said softly. He scooted past her into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of liquor, fixed himself a shot and downed it, unfazed. 

"Yes, there is," she insisted.

"No, there's not," he replied, then finally looked up and met her gaze. The pain she saw there made her want to weep. "You never made me any promises. I have nothing to expect of you."

"But I _did_ make a promise! Our wedding vows were promises, and I haven't broken, them, Jag, I swear it! It wasn't my fault. _He _kissed _me_!"

Jag snorted derisively. "It's okay, Jaina. Really. You don't have to defend yourself to me. I understand, I really do."

"What do you understand?" she snapped.

"I understand that just because we were force to marry each other doesn't mean we have a claim on each other. I have no right to tell you what to do, or expect anything from you."

Jaina was growing more frustrated by the minute. "But I didn't do anything!" she insisted.

Jag held up one hand to silence her. "Jaina, if you love Payton then I have no right to stop you from being with him just because you were forced to marry me." 

"Ugh! Are you not hearing what I'm saying?" she asked as he turned and headed for the bedroom. "I don't love Payton! I love _you_!" she realized immediately what she had said and gasped at her own words, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. Jag stiffened, the muscles in his back tensing.

"What?" he asked, turning partially to look at her over his shoulder.

"I said I love you," she said, incredulous. She loved him.

She loved him.

The realization hit her like a duracrete wall. She didn't know what to do, what to say. So she just stood and stared, wondering when the hell this had happened. She was so wrapped up in her own astonishment that she was caught completely off guard when he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

She gasped in shock and pleasure, and slid her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. His hands moved along her back, one resting in between her shoulder blades and the other at the small of her back. His tongue parted her lips gently, and she felt giddy at the sensations rippling through her. She hadn't even realized that they had moved until she felt the wall press against her back. He moved his lips then, letting them trail down her neck to her collarbone. She sighed in delight, then ducked her head, drawing his mouth back to hers. Suddenly he lifted her from the ground and into his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Jag was gone.

It was the first thing that hit her mind when Jaina awoke the next morning. She opened her eyes but didn't move, carefully examining her surroundings. His side of the bed was empty, all right, but still warm, letting her know that he hadn't been absent long. She ran a wearied hand over her face and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She was so confused.

Not to mention tired. The night before was a blur of passion and pleasure in her mind, with no distinct beginning or end. She remembered little of the details, but what she did made her blush at the memory. It was more like impressions of untamed emotion, raw and fierce with their intensity. She slowly sat up, wincing at the sore muscles unused to such activity. The room was empty and the rest of the house quiet. Where could he be?

Then she noticed the faint sound of running water. She looked and, sure enough, the light in the 'fresher could be seen under the crack of the door. She felt a twinge of resentment that he had left her by herself, but soon banished it. She slid out from under the covers and into her robe and padded drowsily into the kitchen.

She proceeded to fix herself a pot of caf. As it percolated she leaned heavily against the counter, deep in thought. She wasn't quite sure about what everything meant. It was all so fast and confusing…

But it hadn't been confusing then. It had seemed completely straightforward. When he had kissed her, she had known exactly what she wanted…

Did she want the same thing now? Jaina didn't know. Last night she had felt like she could never love anything as much as she loved him. But now reality was seeming to sink in, and she wondered if they hadn't made a terrible mistake.

Suddenly a pair of muscular arms wrapped themselves around her torso, and a kiss settled itself warmly against the side of her neck. Jaina smiled, and her apprehensions faded away like water in the Tatooine sun. "Who is this?" she asked teasingly.

Jag laughed lightly. "Take a wild guess." 

"Hmm," Jaina said thoughtfully. She turned herself around in his embrace, pulling him lower to where she could claim his lips with hers. They leaned back against the counter, caught that way until he finally pulled away.

"So," he asked mischievously, "any guesses?"

Jaina threw her head back with laughter. "A few." They kissed again, but this time lightly and just for a moment before he extracted himself completely. "Caf?" she asked as he moved to sit at the small breakfast table. 

"Please," he consented.

She fixed him a steaming mug—black, just the way he liked it—and set it down on the table in front of him before going back to fix her own. "Are you going to work today?" she asked.

He shook his head a negative. "I doubt I could concentrate much. I figured I'd just spend the day here with you."

Jaina smiled. "All day?"

He grinned back, catching her drift. "All day." She came back to the table and set her own mug down. As she moved to take a seat her caught her around the waist and drew her into a kiss. She seated herself across his lap, straddling him. The kiss grew more and more involved, and she found herself being laid back across the table. She had no longer touched the wood than the door chimed. Jag grunted angrily, throwing the hatch a menacing glare. "Shh," he instructed. "If we're quiet maybe they'll go away."

Jaina acquiesced, but in a few moments it rang again. Reluctantly she pushed him off of her and sat up. "You might as well answer it," she sighed. Glowering, he marched angrily into the living room and hit the control pad. Jaina followed.

On the other side of the door was a smiling Syal Antilles Fel. "Well good morning!" she said, quite chipper. "How are you two this morning?"

"Actually, we were just—" Jag began.

"We were just talking about Jag taking a day off. He's a little under the weather," Jaina finished, shooting Jag a look.

"Oh," Syal said, reaching to feel her son's forehead. "Are you okay? You don't seem to have a temperature. What's wrong?"

"Just a stomachache," he replied. "I'll be fine. Do you need something, Mother?"

"Oh, I was going to see if Jaina wanted to go shopping with Wyn and I, but I see that I'm clearly needed here. If you're sick, you're going to need someone to take care of you so you will be healthy when they ship you off again." She moved past the two teenagers and into the apartment.

Jaina and Jag exchanged alarmed looks, then Jag took a step towards his mother. "Really, Mom, I'm fine. You go ahead and go shopping. Jaina's here if I need anything."

"Nonsense. I can't let her be fetching for you all day long. She has her own life. Now, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Syal, I think he'll be fine," Jaina said carefully. "He just wanted a day off as much as anything. Really, it's fine."

"Yeah," Jag agreed, taking her arm and steering her towards the door. "We can handle it."

Syal stopped at the doorway and gave them suspicious looks. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No." (Jaina) 

"Yes." (Jag) They said at the same time.

Syal furrowed her brow. "What's going on, here? Are you two fighting again?"

"Yes!" Jaina exclaimed. "That's it. But it's just a little disagreement. Nothing to worry about." 

"We've go it covered," Jag agreed. "We just need some time alone to work it out."

Jaina nodded vigorously. "That's why he's taking the day off. We just have to discuss some things."

"Okay," Syal said dubiously. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"We will," Jaina promised. Jag palmed the door shut quickly, leaving Syal standing in the hallway. For a few seconds they just stood there. Then Jaina giggled. Then she giggled again. After a few minutes they were both doubled over with laughter, and it took a good half hour to recover from their mirth.

Jaina lay on the bed, watching him. He had been on the computer for an hour at least, "making at least a little progress for the day". She didn't know what he was working on, and frankly didn't care. The only thing she did care about was that it was keeping him from her. And that could not be tolerated.

She rose slowly, sauntering her way to where he sat at the desk in their room. She stood behind him, looking at the screen and resting her hands on his shoulders. When he didn't look up or acknowledge her, she studied the screen more intently, curious as to what had Jag so preoccupied. When she realized what it was, she backed up, feeling shock and even a little betrayal.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

He turned to face her, as if realizing she was there for the first time. He swallowed hard. "It has to be taken care of, like it or not." 

Jaina frowned, wanting an outlet for her frustration. "Today? It has to be taken care of today?"

"It does if I'm leaving tomorrow."

Jaina didn't know whether to yell at him or cry. "Why?" she managed finally.

Jag shrugged. "I can't help these things, Jaina."

Suspicion suddenly blossomed in her chest. "That's why you wanted to stay with me today, isn't it? You already knew you were leaving, and didn't tell me! Is that what last night was about, too?" she asked, feeling nauseated at the thought.

"No!" he exclaimed, jumping from the chair. "How can you think that?"

"What am I supposed to think?" she asked.

His countenance became stern. "I don't think you're thinking at all."

Her despair flared quickly into anger. "I don't have to stand here and listen to this—"

She turned to leave, but he was there in an instant, taking her by the arm and holding her back. Jaina jerked violently, but he held firm, drawing her closer until there wasn't a breath between them. He looked directly into her eyes, but she couldn't meet his gaze. "Hey," he said, much more kindly than before. "Look at me." She raised her head to look at him sullenly. "I don't _ever_ want to hear you suggest something like that again. You understand?" She furrowed her brow and looked away again, refusing to speak. He sighed. "I know you're mad at me. I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. But it's as hard for me to face as it is you. Do you think I want to leave you here, to go off when I might never come back? Especially now? I don't. But I'm going to make the best of it, and so are you." 

Jaina sighed and lowered her head until her forehead rested against his shoulder. It was hard enough to have him gone before. But now? She didn't know how she would make it. But that was a weakness she wasn't about to show. She could be just as brave as Jag. She was just as brave as Jag. Slowly she lifted her gaze until their eyes locked. "I can handle this like an adult, Jagged Fel. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

He grinned and kissed her softly. "I would be worried more if you did."

"Is that the last bag?" Jag asked, surveying the contents of his squadron's belongings. They were all packed into a loader that would store them on a cruiser that they would be traveling on in hyperspace. No one had packed much. They didn't require it. That was just the Chiss way.

He had said his goodbyes that morning, leaving a forlorn Jaina at their apartment. He knew it was difficult for her, but he had faith that she would be all right. It was in her nature to overcome obstacles, and this was just another in a long line. She would be fine.

"Just one more."

Jag froze at the sound of the voice. He closed his eyes and took a long breath, hoping beyond all hopes that he was mistaken.

He wasn't.

He let the breath he had been holding out in a long rush. Jaina stood in the midst of his soldiers, a duffle bag slung across her shoulder and a roguish grin pasted on her face. "Jaina," he said softly. "What are you doing?"

She took a step forward and slung her bag into the loader. "I'm taking back control of my life. I'm not going to be jerked around anymore. You're my husband. Where you go, I go."

He was already shaking his head. "You can't do that."

"Why?"

He pondered her question for a minute, searching for an answer that would satisfy her. "Because it goes against protocol. You can't just order your way around. That's a military vessel. No one's going to cater to you."

"Who said anything about being catered to?" she asked. "I can live just like the rest of you. Besides, nothing you say is going to change my mind, even if I have to use a mind trick and stow away. I'm not being left behind again."

She had that look in her eye, the one that wanted to make Jag wince. Her jaw was set and the skin around her eyes tight, her lips pursed, daring. He didn't know whether to be scared or laugh. Finally he cracked a smile. "I don't suppose making that an order is going to help any."

She shook her head a definite negative.

"You do realize what kind of danger you're placing yourself in? And me? I'm going to have to neglect my duties because of this."

"I promise not to get in the way," she said, sliding an arm around his waist and guiding him to their transport. "I'll stay completely out of sight. You won't even know I'm there." 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Jaina had seen many worlds in her short life. As the daughter of the Chief of State she had been privileged in her upbringing, exposed to many different cultures and political circles. But her education had not been limited to that. Her Uncle Luke had seen to it that she and her brothers accompany him on many of his numerous travels. He said that countless wars could have been prevented if people just took the time to understand each other. As Jedi in training, he wanted them to have the opportunity of becoming acquainted with as many species and lifestyles as possible. In all her travels, she had visited too many worlds to count.

But none of them had looked like Gortheba. It had been devastated hundreds of years before by a mass erupting of its volcanoes. The result gave it a grayish-black backdrop. But life had returned in certain areas, and the planet's surface was dotted with tiny green spots, as if it had caught an infirmity. Then there was the poles, which were covered it a slightly lighter shade of gray swirled with white. It was an odd sight, one that Jaina had a hard time tearing her eyes from.

"And this is the planet your Command chose for its base of operations?" she asked Jag, skeptical.

"I don't think 'chose' is the right term. We're here because this is a planet our enemy wants. We're here to prevent it, no matter how unstrategic a planet it may be," he said, keeping his face fixed on the view outside the bridge of the _Sanguine_, or at least that was its name in Basic.

"Why?" she asked. "Why not let them have it and save your resources for a planet that counts?"

"Because we are Chiss; we make no concessions. Nothing less than complete victory will suffice." He paused for a moment and Jaina got the distinct impression that he was debating as whether to tell her the rest or not. "And because the enemy we are fighting is a strange one. They have the uncanny ability to take something completely worthless and turn it into a formidable weapon."

Jaina frowned. What was that supposed to mean? "How?"

Jag let out a long breath through his nose. "They have been known to take captured Chiss and implant them with devices that will make them fight against us. They have biotechnology the likes of which none of us have ever even dreamed. They can take an almost dead planet such as this and turn I into a green house." 

Jaina looked back at Gortheba, skeptical. She couldn't even imagine the resource and financing it would take to convert a planet such as that. "Are they formidable combatants?"

He nodded. "Their ships as well as all their weapons are entirely organic in nature. The entire culture as a whole is…well, odd. Tattooing is a religious ritual, as is pain and self-mutilation." 

Jaina was revolted. "They enjoy torturing themselves?" 

Jag shrugged. "I only know what I have been told. That and what I have experienced first hand. As for their flying capabilities, our main disadvantage is not knowing how to fight them. The ships don't have shields, but produce gravatic anomalies that swallow our lasers. The only way we have found to get past their defenses is to overload them with firepower."

"They have to have weaknesses. Everything does," Jaina mused aloud. "Do you think there's any chance—"

"No," he stated firmly before she even finished. "You are _not _flying against these things. It's too dangerous and you are too inexperienced. Besides, you're here as a civilian. Civilians don't participate in combat." 

Jaina knew better than to argue with him in front of his peers, but resolved silently that this would not be the last he would hear on the matter. The best thing to do for the moment would be to change the subject. "What do they call themselves?"

"The Yuuzhan Vong," he said.

"Hmm," Jaina said. "They are humanoid, I suppose?"

"Yes. If not for the tattoos and mutilations, I suspect there would be little difference in their appearance and ours. They are taller on the average, have sloped foreheads and bluish bags under their eyes, but other than that there are not any more apparent distinctions."

"Has the New Republic been informed of this yet?"

This time it was Jag's turn to frown. "Not yet. If they continue to match us, though, we are likely to call on them for aid. Together I have no doubt that we could drive them back to where they came."

"Where did they come from?"

"We're not sure. But some disturbing reports have hinted that they may not even be native to this galaxy." 

That was a disturbing notion. They were facing and intergalactic species with technology the likes of which they had never seen, and who seemed bent on destruction of everything, including themselves. It was not a happy thought.

Jaina lay on the small military bunk, curled against Jag's side. The steady rise and fall of his chest was comforting, soothing her worry. She had been troubled ever since he had explained to her the nature of the enemy they were facing. She couldn't bare the thought that he would soon be facing them, and she would have no way of protecting him.

She buried her face against his shoulder, trying to drive the uneasiness from her mind. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, the answer muffled against his chest. "I'm just a little edgy."

"Why?"

She hugged him a little closer, as if the very thought could tear him away. "I'm afraid for you to fight them."

He chuckled softly. "You forget, I spent over a month fighting them before." 

"But I didn't realize how dangerous it was before." 

"Well, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?" 

Jaina nodded vigorously and looked up into his face. "Let me come with you."

"You are with me."

"You know what I mean. Let me fight with you."

"I can't do that, Jaina," he said sternly. "It's too dangerous."

"Oh, so it's too dangerous for me but not for you?" she came back hotly.

"That's not what I said."

"But it's what you meant," she stated flatly.

"Is it so wrong for me to be concerned about you?" he asked.

"Don't turn this around on me, Jagged Fel. Why should your concern for me override mine for you?"

"It doesn't. It's just that…" 

"That what?" she prodded.

"That reasoning doesn't influence how I feel. I can't—won't—let you do this."

Jaina's frustration increased tenfold. "What about what I want out of life? It's not just about you, Jag. You know I've always dreamed of being a fighter pilot. Will I never get that chance because you're too scared for me?"

"You will," he said carefully. "Just not in this war."

"Why?! I am just as capable as any of the other pilots flying under you." 

"But I'm not married to those pilots, am I?" he snapped.

Jaina pursed her lips angrily. "I thought we already had this discussion. And I thought you had more sense that to try to control me and my life."

Jag sighed deeply, conflicted. "What would you do in my place?"

Jaina was silent, pondering her answer. There was no doubt that she would be tempted to do just as he was. "Jag, if you love me, why can't you just—"

A blaring alarm sounded throughout the warship, startling the young couple. "What's that?" Jaina asked.

Jag was already out of bed and hurrying into his flightsuit. "The warning siren. We're under attack."

Jaina hurried along behind Jag as he rushed to the docking bay. "Go to the bridge," he told her as he jogged to his clawcraft. "You can watch the battle from there."

Jaina could find no words to express her frustration at not being able to fight like everyone else. She felt useless, like an unwanted appendage. "Be careful," she instructed as she stopped at his ladder.

"I will," he promised. He kissed her quickly and then put on his helmet and climbed up the ladder. Jaina stepped back, but didn't leave the docking bay until it had been emptied of craft. She spun angrily and hurried to the bridge.

The captain, a male named Haran'aid'irokini—Naidi—had been very polite about Jaina's presence on this voyage. Jaina had no doubt that he had been instructed to treat her with courtesy for diplomatic reasons, but as long as she got her way she didn't care. This time, though, he had no qualms about ignoring her presence on the bridge so he could focus on the battle. They all bustled around in orderly chaos, Naidi barking orders the whole time.

There were three main assault vessels in their force, the _Sanguine_, _Perilous_, and the _Crimson Thorn_. They formed up on the two oblong, faintly luminescent Yuuzhan Vong battle ships. Jaina watched with great interest. The enemy weapons were like miniature volcanoes, spitting plasma balls ranging in size from a human head to an X-wing. Most splattered off the _Sanguine_'s shields, but a few ate their way through to the hull, where they quickly dissolved the durasteel, opening parts of the vessel to atmosphere.

The Chiss ships pelted the Vong with laserfire, most of which were swallowed by gravatic anomalies that seemed to appear out of thin air. Curious, Jaina stretched out with the Force for the source of the gravity wells. For some reason, she couldn't sense the hull of the ships. In fact, she couldn't sense anyone inside the ship either! It wasn't like a bubble where the Force has been pushed away, like with an ysalamiri. No, a rock had more life in it than that ship. She shivered, suddenly cold. She didn't know what this meant.

Looking out the viewport, she picked out a Yuuzhan Vong snubfighter—coralskippers, Jag had called them, as it flew past. She could see the pilot inside, so she knew it was alive. Stretching out, she found the same empty void as with the battle cruiser. Something was very wrong about this.

She felt suddenly even more protective over Jag. He was fighting and enemy far more dangerous than he knew. She wished her Uncle Luke was there to help her understand how an entire species could be impervious to the Force.

Uncle Luke.

He needed to know about this, and soon. This wasn't an adversary that could be beat with shear military might. These—these abhorrent creatures were a threat to the very heart of the Jedi Order, and deep down Jaina knew only the Jedi could defeat them.

"Have Blue Squadron maneuver to assist Spike Squadron," Captain Naidi was saying.

"What?" Jaina said, shaken back to reality. "Is Jag okay?"

Naidi threw her a look over his shoulder from the command chair. "They're alive but getting hammered by the command ship," he answered emotionlessly.

Jaina moved closer to the viewport, trying to see. She could barely make out the flashing lasers and spewing plasma, but that was all. She closed her eyes and stretched out, reaching as far as her senses would go. She found him there, felt him struggling. She delved deeper, saw through his eyes. She saw the coralskippers flashing past his clawcraft, the streaming plasma and comrades exploding before his eyes. She felt the sweat running down his forehead, the tenseness of his muscles as he pulled maneuver after maneuver after maneuver, wheedling away at his mental store. His desperation became her own.

She couldn't be there with him, but she could lend him her strength. She gathered the Force around him, refreshing his senses, body and mind. She cleansed away the fatigue, restoring his focus. She felt the difference in him immediately. Satisfied that she had done all she could do, she withdrew from the connection. There was nothing she could do now but watch.

It wasn't until the _Perilous_ exploded that Naidi called the fighters back. Even though it had ended in a stalemate, Jaina was so relieved she could have cried. He hadn't died. Not this time.

"What we need," Naidi was saying, "is information. We don't know anything about these invaders. We don't know anything about their culture, their weapons, their ships; we especially don't know anything about their weaknesses."

Jaina shifted in her chair, feeling out of place. She had insisted on coming to the meeting, simply because she was afraid to let Jag out of her sight, but now that she was here she felt uncomfortable among all the Chiss senior officers. "Are you suggesting a reconnaissance mission?" a stout female lieutenant asked.

"I am," Naidi said. "We need an infiltrator. No, better yet, a sabotager."

"How do you propose we do that? It's not like we have any disguises," Jag said.

Jaina wasn't listening. A plan was slowly forming in her head. The Chiss wouldn't stand a chance inside the Vong command ship. But a Jedi…Not only would she help the Chiss and Jag, but she could learn about their new foes and have something to report to her Uncle Luke. She could do this. The trick would be getting Jag to agree.

"I can do it," she interrupted suddenly. The all looked at her blankly, then a few snickered. Jaina glared at them venomously. "I am a Jedi. I've been trained for just this kind of situation. I can get in there and kill that ship."

"By yourself?" Naidi asked dubiously. "You're not even a soldier."

"I will be," Jaina countered. "I'm on the list, aren't I Jag?" she turned to him for confirmation. He continued to stare at the table. "_Jag_?" she hissed.

He sighed defeatedly. "You are."

Jaina looked back to Naidi triumphantly. "If you don't believe me, test me. I'll be dealing with hand to hand combat, and there's no one more suited to that than a Jedi." 

"There's no need for that," Naidi said. "I would let you do this, Jedi Solo, except for the fact that your death would mean the end of peace between the New Republic and Chiss Ascendancy. That is something I cannot allow."

Jaina thought furiously, searching for any means of persuasion. Finding none, she resorted to desperate measures. She gathered all her Force strength about her, and then shoved it outward. "You _will_ let me do this," she said, shoving the thought into his mind with all her might. Naidi looked confused, puzzled. He rubbed his head curiously.

"But…" 

"I am the only one who can complete this task."

"You are the only one who can complete this task."

"You assign its success to me."

"I assign its success to you." 

Jaina stood triumphantly before anyone could think to dispute Captain Naidi's orders. She scurried out the door, but hadn't taken three steps down the corridor before she heard footsteps following her. "Jaina, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Jag asked.

"Going to prepare for my mission," she said logically.

His countenance was angry. "Don't think I don't know what you did in there. I can't let you do this." 

"Why?" she screeched. "Why are you trying to confine me to such a muted life? Am I supposed to live my life watching everyone else battle my battles for me? Why don't I have the right to stand up for those I love? It's not fair, Jag!"

He took a step back, shocked by the venom in her voice. "That's not what—" 

"Yes!" she yelled. "It is!" By then the passerby were beginning to stare, but Jaina didn't care. "Don't do this to me, Jag," she pleaded, feeling tears forming. "Let me _live_, not just exist."

She could tell he was torn, that she was getting to him. Determined, she drove in the killing blow. "Everything I thought I was was taken away, why can't you just let me find my place here?"

Jag heaved a great sigh. "What if you die?"

"Then I die an honorable death," she said softly. She came closer, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "I'll be okay, Jag. Believe in me for once."

Still distraught, he quietly nodded his assent. She kissed him softly before pulling away and rushing off to ready herself. Jag watched her go, fearing he was sending her to her death.

Jaina piloted the small stealth vessel in and out of the wrecked ships. So far she had gone undetected, but that wouldn't last long, she knew. If she was going to do this, she had to hurry.

Her objective was to find a coralskipper that wasn't dead yet. It could have simply been knock out of the fight or the pilot killed in a collision. It happened all the time, and Jaina needed to find just one.

Circling through the wreckage was unpleasant for Jaina. She often encountered the remains of Chiss, and when that happened she could do nothing but look away and plod on. She weaved back and forth through the debris, avoiding coral pieces and durasteel chunks alike.

And there it was. It was in its death throes, coloring black slowly, but very apparently alive nonetheless. Excited, Jaina pulled her small ship so close that she could look through the canopy. The pilot lay dead inside, some sort of appendage attached to his head. Jaina unsnapped her restraints, made sure her life support was intact, and popped her hood.

The cold vacuum of space surrounded her instantly, sucking her out into the void. She space-walked over to the enemy craft, propelling herself with the Force. She settled down onto the canopy, studying it intently. On its nose was an oblong creature that appeared to be dead. She kicked it just to make sure. She walked along the length of the ship until she found what must pass for a hatch. She opened it and climbed inside. 

The pilot was definitely dead. He was slumped in the pilot's couch, arms limp at his side. Jaina came around to study him. It was a grotesque sight, and not just because it was a corpse. The dead Vong was horribly disfigured, with no nose and a scarred visage. Patterned tattoos ran over his whole body, giving him a wicked appearance. On his head was a shriveling hood that attached to the ship. Assuming it was important, Jaina pulled it off his bald skull and let it hang. Using the Force to augment her strength—and with the lack of gravity—she lifted the pilot out of the chair and shoved him out the hatch, then closed it.

Very carefully, she sat down in the pilot's chair. Two glove-like projections extended in front of her, and the hood hung to the side. She looked at the different controls carefully, then decided to push them all until the cockpit began to fill with oxygen. When it was breathable she took off her helmet and gloves. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled the hood onto her own head.

Immediately her brain was flooded with information as well as sensations, pain not the least of them. It was afraid and angry, and didn't want Jaina to be anywhere near it. Had it been in a better condition she got the impression that it would not have been exactly cooperative. She put her hands in the gloves, trying to get it to move, but was sullenly informed that the dovin basal—the dead thing she had kicked—propelled the craft as well as shielded it.

So she was dead in space.

Jaina sighed, and asked the craft if there was any way to alert the command ship that she was alive. It responded that it might—might—be able to shoot one last plasma blast. Jaina smiled tightly to herself. The Vong patrols would be coming around any time, and when they did, all she had to do was fire off a shot and they would bring her in. 

While she waited she went over her check list one more time. She had her lightsaber, as well as two charrics and extra power packs for each. She also carried an arsenal of five medium-sized grenades and two large ones, as well as a thermal detonator. She was well-prepared, but that didn't stop a small case of the jitters. Contrary to what she had told everyone, this was the first time she had ever done anything like this.

Suddenly the ship told her there were others approaching. She stayed alert, keeping track of the other ships until one crossed right in front of her path. Crossing her fingers, she made a fist inside of the glove, and with a dying heave the skip loosed a final volley of plasma. The scout ships swerved, coming closer to Jaina's now-dead ship. They circled several times, then one peeled off and headed back to the main flotilla. Letting out a nervous sigh, Jaina sat back to wait. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The ship hauling her in looked more like a space slug than a ship. It was long and gray, and Jaina got the distinct impression that she was being swallowed. Muscle-like fibers contracted and loosened, propelling her along its length. She wasn't sure what would await her when it released her, but she wanted to be ready.

Jaina had quickly shed the vac suit, and was now robed only in a thin jumpsuit. She had a knapsack full of explosives on her back, her lightsaber on her belt, and a charric holstered at her right hip. All that was left was her targets.

Suddenly the transport creature made a sound that reminded Jaina of a Hutt belching. The nose of her craft broke abruptly through a reddish membrane and the whole coralskipper was dropped unceremoniously onto what she supposed was the inside of the enemy's ship. It was all made of multihued coral, pulsing gently with life. On the deck she saw numerous Yuuzhan Vong—some scarred more than others—scurrying about, examining her dead ship.

Jaina drew her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it. The violet blade hummed in the amniotic silence. She took a deep breath and plunged it into the roof of the skip. She made a small, fist-sized hole, then withdrew the blade. She pulled a grenade from her pack, jerked the safety off with her teeth, and tossed it outside. She could hear the Vong barking in their strange guttural language, cautious as well as curious about the strange projectile. Jaina anchored herself to the side of the ship, and counted slowly in her head.

It erupted a half-second late, but the blast was tremendous. It tossed the alien snubfighter onto its side, and the fired coral turned black all the way to the inside. Taking advantage of the momentary weakness, Jaina shoved the business end of her lightsaber into what was formerly the ceiling, but was now the wall. She cut a hole big enough to fit through and then leapt out lightsaber sweeping in a protective arc.

For the moment, however, all the Vong that had been in the hangar were dead. Jaina didn't take time to examine them, but went straight to what looked like an exit. It was a thin membranous like opening that irised open when she pressed on it. The corridor on the other side was irregular in shape, with bumpy walls and floors and uneven corners. She went carefully, saber in hand but turned off. Her thumb hovered continuously over the ignition switch. She stretched out with the Force, hoping to be able to detect anything. Nothing.

Wait. 

There was a twinge, a consciousness. Some intelligent lifeform. It was huge, in mental capacity at least. As it recognized her she cringed, the force of its mental abilities were so strong, almost crippling. She clamped down the barriers of her awareness, shutting herself off from it. but she knew that was only temporary. Such a monstrosity had to be destroyed. She knew she could never destroy the ship while it was alive.

A barbaric shout sounded. Jaina spun to see a warrior—six and a half feet tall, at least—rushing towards her. It pulled what looked like a snake from its belt, but the serpent straightened almost immediately into a sword-like weapon. The Vong charged Jaina, sweeping the snake at her like a club. Jaina casually raised her lightsaber, intending to cut the thing in half.

And then an extraordinary thing happened. 

The snake blocked her blows. The lightsaber didn't cut the skin, not even a little bit. It repelled it completely. Since she had been expecting the lightsaber to pass right through the thing, Jaina wasn't prepare for the force of her opponent's blow. It nearly dislocated her shoulders, and would have had she not released the handle. She fell back out of the way and rolled to her feet. She called the lightsaber back into her hand and brought it up into a high guard. The Vong snarled through tattered lips and charged. 

This time Jaina was ready. She ducked under the blow completely, and instead sliced at his midsection.

Nothing. 

The violet blade bounced off the armored torso like a shockball on ferrocrete. Stunned, Jaina could think of nothing to do while in such a position except to tackle him. He was stout, and it almost knocked the breath out of her to ground him. _What have I gotten myself into?_ She thought as they rolled head over heals across the coral deck. Finally she released her grip on him and rolled onto her feet. As he stood she planted a beauty of a high-kick right underneath his chin. His head snapped back, but he didn't even so much as stagger. Frustrated, Jaina kicked him again, this time in the groin. That time he doubled over, distorted face contorted with pain. But this gave Jaina time to thing more than anything. He hadn't been armored beneath the plated skirt, so there had to be other weaknesses. That's when she noticed a hint of skin on the back of his neck where his head was bowed. Unflinchingly Jaina severed the head quickly.

Just about then five more similarly clad Vong appeared at the far end of the hall. One pointed at her and shouted, then they all ran full speed towards her, pulling more snake-weapons from their belts.

Jaina sighed wearily. Right before they reached her she thought, _I really have to start listening to Jag more. _

She jumped, soaring over their heads in a graceful arc. As she went over she extended her sword in a precise cut that went straight down the back of one's neck, severing the spine and coming out the other side of his throat. She jerked it out and as she landed shoved upward forcefully beneath the armored skirt of another, skewing him like a wild animal. She stood quickly, turning to face the other three. The biggest, ugliest one said something, then the other two attacked at the same time, one coming at her from each side. One sliced for her neck, the other at ankles from behind. Jaina bent back to avoid the first blow and leapt off her feet and onto her hands to avoid the other. She somersaulted to an upright position, and shoved the tip of her lightsaber through the eye socket of the one who had swung at her ankles. At the same time she planted a Force-augmented kick into the second Vong's abdomen, shoving him away from her. _Just two more_, she thought, licking her lips in anticipation.

He recovered quickly, raising his snake-weapon. Jaina brought her lightsaber up in expectancy of the coming attack, but suddenly the snake was in serpentine form again. It hisses and curled, and only Jaina's danger sense caused her to jump out of the way as it spit something foul through the air where she had just been. Now fully aware of this new danger, Jaina determined to be more cautious around the weapons. And then a thought occurred. If it was no longer a sword but a snake was it still impervious to her lightsaber? She swung experimentally. It scraped down the side of the snake, undamaging, until it reached the head. Suddenly a huge chunk of the snake's skull fell to the floor and the rest of the body went limp. The Yuuzhan Vong looked at her incredulously as she thrust her lightsaber through his neck. 

She spun quickly, then, to face her final opponent. It was the leader, the one who had stood by and given the others orders. Jaina wondered at this, questioning why he had not attacked himself. But as she observed his cocky glance she realized that he viewed her as no more than practice. He had been letting his subordinates toy with her, probably so that they would gain experience. He drew his snake-sword and beckoned her forward. She sighed, drew her charric from her holster and shot him in the face at point blank range. "Amateurs," she muttered as she stepped across the smoking body and headed for deeper parts of the ship.

Jaina efficiently disposed of each group that attacked her, bet the effort tired her until she began to wonder how she was going to defeat the beast in the belly of the ship. It would have been difficult were she in the best of conditions, but injured and drained as she was it seemed anything but wise. There had to be some other way to kill the ship.

She turned to the latest pile of corpses, charred from the grenade she had thrown into their midsts. Somewhere in there there must be a clue to some sort of self-destruct button. Everything had its weakness, as her Uncle Luke often said. As she rummaged, she found various weapons that they had brandished at her including, flesh-eating bugs and an albuminoid that could stick you to the wall or floor.

The only thing of real interest that she found was a small bug the size of her thumb that hummed and buzzed at varying levels, depending on which direction she moved. Curious, she continued in the direction that made it grow louder until she was at an organic terminal of sorts with a hood much like the one in the coralskipper she had stolen. She supposed that it was an information deck of sorts, full of new bulletins and other info all the Vong needed to be made aware of.

Taking advantage of her position, Jaina pulled the hood quickly over her head. Immediately her mind was overwhelmed with alien words and impressions, but most were base intimations that she could understand. The beast she didn't want to face was called a yammosk, a war-coordinator. She also learned the names of many of their weapons, and after a little prying, how they worked. _If I make it out of here alive, I'm going to be an Intel dream_.

Most importantly, she learned that the ship had a central brain. If she destroyed this, the ship would die along with everyone inside. _This _is what she needed to be going after. She quickly found directions to where the brain was kept, then disengaged. This would be tough, but more on a physical level than a mental one. As long as she had the Force to draw energy from, she could take the physical beatings. It was the yammosk's mental barrage that she feared the most.

Jaina impaled the last warrior in her way upon her lightsaber, then let him fall to the ground. She was bleeding from several wounds, most of them minor, but a few that made her wince with every step. She was sure that at least two ribs were broken, and that she had sprained her right ankle. The defense guarding the brain had been tougher than she had expected, and they showed no mercy. It had been all she could do to defeat them, but she had done it. She had cauterized the door-portal closed, keeping all others out, at least temporarily. All that was left now was to actually kill the thing.

It was surprisingly unimpressive, just a squarish gray blob in a membranous container. Jaina didn't care. She just wanted to kill it and get it over with. Not wanting to go through the extra exertion of lightsaber work, she drew her only thermal detonator from her pack She set it on the five minute timer, which would begin when she pulled her thumb off of the switch. But first she needed an escape plan.

She had told Jag that she would find her own way out, but that hardly seemed like an option now. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath, letting go of all her tensions. She stretched out, searching inside herself form the presence that was imprinted on her soul. When she found it, she extended outward...

Jag was going over the day's reports looking for any anomalies and trying to get his mind off what Jaina must be going through. He had just finished an agonizingly boring one when the world went inexplicably black.

In his mind's eye he saw Jaina, saw her face staring out of the darkness at him. He tried to reach for her, but to no avail. Then her face dissolved into a different image. He saw the enemy ship, but it began to change, to blacken and die before his eyes. Then he saw Jaina trapped inside, disabled along with the Vong as the ship deteriorated.

Then he understood. She was telling him she needed help, needed to be rescued. He didn't know where she would be be or how he could get inside, but he did know that he was going to do everything he could to get her out before that ship expired. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Jaina's main concern was that they would get to her before Jag did. The barriers she had set in place were flimsy at best, and when they discovered where she was, the whole ship would be baring down on her. Therefore she determined that the best thing to do would be to get out, and quick.

She looked to the brain itself for a place to hide the detonator. After deciding that she might as well injure it if she was going to kill it, she cut a hole in the sac holding the brain. She didn't think the goop inside would hurt it, so she dropped the detonator inside. That meant she had five minutes to get as far away as possible.

The easiest place for Jag to reach her at would be the hangar, so that's the direction she made for. She increased her hearing with the Force so she could sense someone's approach, and that way had many less encounters. She could hide long before they reached her.

Her leg hurt, but not that badly. What bothered her the most was her ribs. It seemed to stab at her lungs with each breath, and jogging didn't help matters. She winced with every step, but knew she had to hurry.

Despite her extensive and personal training, Jaina was not an experienced Jedi. In fact, she hadn't been officially elevated to Knight status yet. She wasn't used to war and blood and killing, or pain for that matter. What kept her going past any reasonable human limits was a drive, a stubbornness that she couldn't explain. It was something she had been born with, a willingness to suffer for others and a resolve to never complain about it.

There were a lot of things in Jaina's life that she didn't like, but she never complained.

Jaina had expected the hangar to be empty when she got there. Instead, she was met with the stares of at least sixty Yuuzhan Vong. Fortunately, less than half were worriors. Jaina smirked to herself at the irony of thirty being a fortunate number. She took a deep breathe and drew her lightsaber, knowing the effort was futile. She could run, but they would follow. She could fight, but they would win.

The first four she knocked back with a force shove, then continued by constricting the air around their throats until they suffocated. She knew it was a cheap trick, one that her uncle probably would frown upon, but her life meant more than just herself. She carried information that her family needed, that the Republic needed, the Chiss needed. They may not have another shot at a reconn mission like this again.

She dodged a spat of venom and sliced off the head of the serpent who had attacked her, then shoved her lightsaber through its master's eyesocket. The next two she shot with her charric, all the while defending against thud bugs and razor bugs with her left hand.

She managed to pick off four more before her battery cartridge died. Cursing, she slung the useless weapon at a warrior's face, collapsing his nose into his brain. She didn't have time to dig her extra out of her pack, and her strength was fading fast. She wouldn't last long in hand to hand combat.

It was at this moment that the thermal detonator chose to explode. As she was tossed into the air by the concussion ripples of the blast, she could only thank the Force. Her attitude changed when she was slammed with fantastic force against the bulkhead. She felt keenly her injured rib puncture her right lung, and her deltoid muscle rip in half. She might have screamed, she wasn't sure, because there was a droning noise all around her, blacking out everything else. It took a few minutes for her to recognize the sound.

_Engines_, she thought.

There were no engines in Vong ships, everything was organic. That could mean only one thing.

Jag.

She rolled onto her back and looked up. A capacious hole had been ripped in the ceiling by something other than the thermal detonator, which was too far removed. And attempting to lower itself down through the hole was a ship, glorious in its artificial casing. She stretched out with the Force and found Jag there, anxious with concern.

The Vong who had survived the blast were now being sucked into the vacuum of space. Jaina could feel her own lungs burning with the loss of oxygen, but she was afraid to put herself into a hibernation trance because she would appear dead when Jag reached her. She slowed her heartbeat as much as possible until it was beating only perhaps ten times a minute.

And suddenly an oxygen mask was pressed firmly against her mouth. She breathed it in greedily, but winced as her injured lung attempted to expand and contract. She screamed as someone lifted her into their arms, her injuries igniting her in a flame as pure as her lightsaber. When it reached a point where she thought she would die from it the world blacked out.

When Jaina awoke she knew immediately that she was in bacta. The fluid surrounded her, filled her lungs and throat. She sighed, relieved that she was alive and depressed that she was so confined. The shapes outside were distorted and fuzzy, making it impossible to know who it was. _How long have I been in here? And how much longer do I have to stay?_

She shifted until she felt the bottom of the tank under her feet. She kicked off lazily, hoping the tank wasn't entirely full. It was. That failed, she stretched out with the Force, searching for anyone she recognized.

Somewhat to her surprise, Jag wasn't anywhere around. She felt a pang of hurt that he would leave her in such condition, but tried quickly to quiet it. Why should he stick around when she couldn't even talk to him? Right? 

She shook her head, forcing herself to think of something else. She tried to organize everything she had learned so that she could give a thorough and accurate debriefing. Inwardly she named off all the alien weapons and uses, and any other technology. Next she calculated what she had learned of them socially.

Last and most important, she tried to decide what she would tell her Uncle Luke. Some things just couldn't be properly described and instructed through a hologram. She would need to teach him and the other Jedi how to fight a Vong effectively, and what to watch for.

She needed to go back to Coruscant.

In the months she had been in Chiss Territory she had never asked to go back once. She hadn't even mentioned it. It had already been decided that she was to stay for a full year before visiting home. But this was an extenuating circumstance. It could mean success or failure for the Jedi as well as the New Republic. One way or another, she was going back. If it meant hurting the Republic-Chiss alliance or even Jag, it was just something she was going to have to do.

Right choices never are the easy ones.

Jag was there when they removed her from the bacta. The med droid suggested that she stay in the Medwing for a few more days, but Jaina insisted that she be taken back to their quarters. Once there she told Jag everything she had gone through. He shook his head in amazement.

"That was way too dangerous. I never should have let you go," he said. 

"Probably," she grinned. "But it turned out for the best. I have so much to report to the Captain."

Jag shook his head. "You're going to be reporting straight to General Covathen."

Jaina paled. "Why? I don't want to meet him." 

Jag scowled. "Why not? He just wants to hear what you have learned first hand. It's important."

Jaina fidgeted nervously. "He _feels _funny. Like I can't quite get a grasp on him. Slippery."

Jag laughed. "You don' t want to talk to him because he doesn't feel right?"

Jaina scowled at his amusement. "He's not to be trusted, Jag. You should listen to me." 

He just smiled and stood. "Whatever you say."

Jaina opened her mouth to protest, but a new thought occurred to her. "The Vong!" she said, jumping to her feet. "Did I do it? Is the ship dead?"

This time Jag's smile was more of pride than of condescension. "You did. After the thermal detonator exploded, all the shields fell. That's how I got inside to rescue you. We launched a full assault, and it was in pieces within minutes."

Jaina laughed with glee, launching herself into his arms. They stayed that way long after the mirth of the moment had passed. Jaina looked up into his green eyes and smiled. "You know, even though I'm a stranger here, I've never felt more at home than when I'm with you." 

He kissed her then, long and hard. Jaina's pulse began to race, and she felt a pang of disappointment when he withdrew. But when he looked at her, his gaze was mischievous. "I was just thinking. I don't have to report back in for oh, several hours." 

"Hmm," Jaina said. "What _will _we do with the time?"

He smiled, drawing her a little closer. "I think we can come up with something."

"What?" Jaina asked.

"Nothing," he responded, rolling onto his back to avoid her gaze.

"Tell me," she prodded playfully, poking him in the ribs.

He flinched from the touch. Jaina's smile grew broader then, her eyes twinkling from mischief. "Are you...ticklish?"

"No," he said firmly, but it was too late then. She ran her hand teasingly across his side, drawing a fit of laughter from him. "Hey! Stop it! Jaina!"

She giggled fitfully. "What were you looking at me like that for?"

"Okay!" he conceded, pushing her hand away. He rolled onto his side and drew her close, looking down into her eyes. "I was thinking that I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come back."

Jaina buried her face in his chest, feeling suddenly sentimental.

"Yeah," he continued, "it would be awful hard to find another good excuse to take off from work."

Jaina punched his chest, hard. He just laughed, and kissed her again. "What? I can't make a joke every once and a while?"

They fell into a comfortable silence. Jaina relished in the moment, knowing that times like this wouldn't last forever. She would need to tell him she had to leave, and soon. To her surprise, it wasn't as joyous a thought as it had been a few weeks before. She was loath to leave Jag's side, but it was her duty as a Jedi. And Jag was a big boy. He had been taking care of himself a long time before she showed up. He would be okay. 

He must have picked up on the darkening of her mood, because he shifted in their embrace to look at her. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing," she said trying to sound cheerful.

"It's not nothing. I can tell. What's bothering you?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," she skirted.

"Well, if it's bothering you right now then we need to talk about it right now," he pressed.

"I just..." she looked away. This wasn't the best of times to tell him this, but he had her in a corner. What could she do? "It's Jedi stuff."

"Jedi stuff that's bothering you right now?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "I learned a lot of things about the Vong on that mission. Things that my Uncle Luke needs to know."

"Call and tell him then," Jag said, not comprehending.

"It's more complicated than that. I know you all think you've got this war under control, but this is a lot bigger than you know. The Vong...I can't feel them in the Force. It's like they exist outside it. This is _big _for the Jedi, Jag. So big I can't even fathom the implications right now. I can't drop a bombshell like this over the Holonet. I need to be there."

Jag just stared at her for a minute. "Are you saying you want to leave?"

"Not _want _to, _have _to. It's my duty. If anyone can understand that, it should be you."

He was quiet for a long time, just staring at the ceiling. Jaina resisted the urge to probe his feelings with the Force, knowing he would answer her in due time. Finally he heaved a great sigh. "I guess it wouldn't do any good to tell you I didn't want you to go?"

"No," she said softly. "It wouldn't. I'm so sorry, Jag. I'll come back as soon as I can. You know I will. I love you."

He opened his mouth to reply when the comm started going off wildly. Jag grabbed it from the bedside table, irritated. "What?"

"Colonel Fel, General Covathen has arrived insystem and has inquired as whether or not Jedi Solo-Fel is well enough to be debriefed," an emotionless Chiss voice came back.

"I don't think—" Jag began, but Jaina snatched it quickly from his hand.

"Tell the General I am ready at his convenience," Jaina said, then switched it off.

"Are you sure you're well enough?" Jag asked.

Jaina was already standing. She threw him a teasing smirk over her shoulder. "After this? I think I can manage sitting in an office for a half hour." 

The foyer around the General's office was plush and churrigueresque, decorated in velvets and silks. Jaina sat on the small couch, waiting for the straight-backed Chiss secretary to tell her she could go in.

She fiddled with the tassels on a pillow, trying to shake off the jitters. She didn't know why she got the creeps around this guy, but she wanted to be cautious. The Force was rarely wrong. And so she brought her lightsaber along, just in case.

The intercom beeped, and a few seconds later the secretary told Jaina that the General was ready to see her. Jaina let out a nervous breath and stood. The door to the inner office swooshed open for her, and she stepped inside.

Seated behind a large wooden desk sat the shady General, his red eyes calculating as Jaina came to stand before him. "Jedi Solo, I presume?" 

"Solo-Fel," Jaina corrected a bit smugly.

"Forgive me," he said in a way that suggested her didn't care one way or the other. "Have a seat."

Jaina sat.

"I hear you displayed quite a plethora of bravery a few days ago," he began, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers in front of his chin.

"I guess some could say so," Jaina replied evenly.

"I have also been told that you managed to gather quite a bit of Intelligence, despite being instrumental in the victory at Gortheba."

"I have," she stated simply. 

He gave her a taut grin. "I would like to hear a full account, if you don't mind."

And so Jaina began, starting from her capture of the dying enemy skip to her rescue at Jag's hands. After that she gave a full account of all the weapons she had discovered, as well as their functions. Then she told the little that she had learned of their social structure. "I think deformity is a symbol of rank or status. The more mutilated you are, the higher your status."

"Hmm," Covathen said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Jaina scowled. She had just handed over what was probable the biggest Intel goldmine in history, and all he could say was 'hmm'. Suspicious, she reached out in the Force at him once more. Like before, she felt nothing, as if he slipped through her fingers every time. Suddenly a terrible thought hit her. She didn't know how it was possible, but she knew. She jumped from her chair, igniting her lightsaber and pulling it to a high guard.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

Jaina wasn't listening. She swung her saber experimentally, letting the tip end cut a gash across his forehead as deep four millimeters. To her horror, the blue skin peeled away, a seam opening down through the side of his nose all the way down under the collar of his uniform. He stood as the skin fell away, revealing a sickeningly disfigured face, tattooed and housing one fake eye.

An amphistaff slithered down his arm and into his hand. "I was right to fear you," he said, his alien voice gruff but in clear Basic. "You are a worthy foe indeed."

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He made a pretense of bowing shallowly. "I am called Nom Anor. And very soon you will be called dead." Before Jaina could react to her sudden spike of danger the amphistaff lashed out, not wish venom or teeth, but wrapping itself in a terrifying grip around her throat.

Jaina dropped to her knees as the snake constricted her airway, crushing her windpipe in on itself. Nom Anor turned to leave, but Jaina Force shoved him into a wall. He recovered quickly, but instead of attacking ripped off his littler finger. An inky miasma filled the room, hiding everything behind its curtain of blackness. Jaina couldn't see, or breathe for that matter. She grappled with the amphistaff, tugging at it with all her might. It didn't help.

She was losing consciousness quickly. If she could see, she supposed spots would be dancing before her eyes. And then she heard the sound of the outer office door opening, and the sound of the secretary screaming. The cloud of darkness spilled into the outer office, giving Jaina some measure of visibility.

Nom Anor was gone.

The secretary rushed to Jaina's side and began to tug on the amphistaff with her. Jaina struggled to remain conscious, knowing that if she slipped away she would never wake up. Desperate, she grabbed her lightsaber and pressed it into the young Chiss woman's hand.

"What do I do with it?" she exclaimed.

Jaina tried to voice the words, but it ended it a strangled gargle. Without any other hope, she formed the image of a lightsaber stabbing into the serpent's head, killing it, and shoved it into the woman's mind. She depressed the button unhesitatingly, then shoved it into amphistaff's snake-like head. It immediately stopped constricting and went limp around Jaina's throat.

She yanked it off and threw it across the room, panting heavily. The secretary turned off the lightsaber and handed it back to Jaina. "Thank you," Jaina managed. 

"Where is the General?" she asked without preamble. 

"The _General _is a Yuuzhan Vong spy," Jaina croaked. "I discovered him, and he fled."

"Where?" The Chiss asked. "That door is the only way out and no one has come through."

Jaina managed to stand, though she had to stand still to recover from her light-headedness at first. The Chiss told her to sit, but Jaina waved her off. "I should call the MedCenter," she said.

"You do that," Jaina replied. As the secretary hurried out into the foyer Jaina examined the desk. Sure enough, there was a panel that could be lifted up from the carpeted floor. Underneath was a chute and ladder leading to a secret tunnel. Jaina thought about pursuit, but knew he had too great of a head start. But maybe she could prevent him from escaping completely. 

Quickly she drew her comlink. "Jag, are you there?"

No response.

"Jag, come on this is important," she said. 

Finally his voice came back in answer. "Jaina? What's wrong? Are you alright? You sound terrible."

"Thanks, I love you too," she ground out. "I'll live. But there's a Yuuzhan Vong onboard. You need to stop all traffic flow until he's found." 

There was silence.

"What?" she asked, a feeling of dread forming in her stomach.

He sighed deeply. "There was an unauthorized takeoff only a few seconds ago. We tried to shoot it down but it escaped into hyperspace."

Jaina cursed violently and shut off the comlink. What secrets must Nom Anor have uncovered? And even more disturbing, what trouble could he have caused in the Ascendancy? 


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"I _told _you, I'm _fine_," Jaina snapped at the Emdee droid. They had shown up with what seemed to Jaina like a full platoon and carried her off like an injured bantha. She had been forced to undergo all kinds of tests had bacta patches applied to her neck and hands. And still they would not let her go.

"I can't turn my back for one second, can I?" a familiar voice asked. 

Jaina's head snapped around to see Jag leaning against the door jam and shaking his head. But underneath his casual facade Jaina could feel the worried tension like it was her own, the cold fear that something had happened to her.

Jaina waggled a finger in his direction. "This is not my fault! It's that damned General you all were so thrilled about."

"Were?" he asked, coming to kneel by her bed and taking her hand almost absentmindedly. 

"That's right, _were_. Unless you have an unusual fondness for Vong spies who try to murder your wife," she snapped. She wasn't in the best of tempers, and didn't mind taking it out on him.

Jag's brow steepled with confusion. "Covathen was a Vong spy? How?"

"I just know that his face peeled off and there was a Vong underneath. The next thing I know the room's full of an ink-cloud and there's and amphistaff around my neck."

Jag touched the almost healed skin on her hands. When he looked back up at her his eyes were so full of sorrow that Jaina felt all her anger and frustration evaporate in an instant. "Jag?" she asked.

"I should have listened to you. I never should have let you meet with him when you told me he was dangerous. I'm so sorry, Jaina." 

Jaina grinned softly, touched by his protectiveness. How typical of him, trying to bear the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. "Jag, when are you going to learn that I make my own decisions, and that my mistakes are my own, too? You can no more keep me from danger than you can keep me from breathing."

"But I could have this time," he insisted.

Jaina sighed. "I'm a big girl, Jag. I can take care of myself. I don't need a babysitter. Look, I'm alive, see? You need to worry about yourself more. You're the one who's going to be on the front lines the next few weeks. I'm trusting that you'll be here when I get back."

He kissed her hand gently and smiled. "You can count on it." 

"Good. Okay, these stupid droids won't let me go yet, so can you take my report to Captain Naidi? I typed it up while I was waiting." She passed him the datacard.

"Sure," he said. "But there's one thing about this that doesn't add up. Covathen has been here since childhood. How can he have been a Yuuzhan Vong the whole time?"

"I guess he murdered the real Covathen after he became a General and took his place," Jaina said. "It's the only thing that makes sense to me."

"Probably," Jag agreed. "Okay, I'll be by to pick you up later."

Jaina waved him off. "I'll be out of here long before then. I'll meet you at home."

Jag saluted the Captain as he entered. "At ease," Naidi said, then beckoned him foreward.  
Jag handed him the datacard Jaina had given him. "Here is Jaina's report from the reconnaissance and from the attack in the General's office."

"Thank you," Naidi said popping it into his datapad and scanning through it. "Is she going to recover?" 

"Yes," Jag answered. "She's just a little banged up." 

Naidi closed the datapad and looked at Jag. "I have your new orders."

"Where are they sending me?" Jag asked. 

"The Imperial Remnant has had trouble with the Vong harrying their borders as well. Grand Admiral Pallaeon has requested military assistance as well as tactical aid. They have no idea how to fight them. They're being slaughtered. We're sending you to the _Chimaera _to help."

Jag was incredulous. "You're sending me to the Empire?"

"You're a better candidate than most. Your family has a history with them, and your background will allow you to adjust better. We're hoping that if they learn how to fight these invaders that they will drive them back from there side so they won't enter Known Space. I doubt the New Republic will handle such an invasion well, and if the Vong gain access there they can launch attacks at us from New Republic worlds. It would be devastating. You have to help make sure that that doesn't happen," Naidi told him.

This was unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome. Jag had always wanted to know more about the Imperial Remnant. He had also never flown a TIE. It was an exciting prospect. Since Jaina was leaving anyway he didn't have to worry about leaving her so far behind. He could complete this mission in peace, knowing she was safe with her family. "When do I leave?"

"Three days," Naidi said. He copied the information from the disc Jaina had sent him onto his datapad, then handed the disc back to Jag. "Keep this as reference. Give anything that is needed to the Empire. They need all that they can get."

Jaina was there when Jag got home. She was already packing for her own excursion, and clothes were thrown everywhere. _This place is going to be a wreck by the time we get through with it_, Jag thought. He wasn't sure how to break the news to her. He knew it shouldn't matter where he was while she was gone, but he didn't how she—coming from the New Republic which had formerly been the Rebellion—would take him living with the Empire.

She smiled as he came through the door. "What did Naidi say?"

"He gave me my new orders," Jag said, deciding not to shirk from the problem. No, he would face it head on.

"Really?" Jaina asked as she folded a shirt and laid it inside her bag. "Where are they sending you?"

"The Empire."

Jaina gave him a shocked look. "The Remnant? What're they sending you there for?"

"They've requested help in fighting the Vong. They've been attacking their borders, and the Empire doesn't know how to fight them," Jag answered.

"So you're going to teach them?" Jaina said.

"Basically. Teach them, fight with them, help with tactics. I'll probably be there a while," he added, trying to get a sense of hr reaction. 

To his surprise, she just snorted derisively. "Probably. They need _somebody _to help them. They could have used a little instruction a long time ago."

Jag let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Not only did she not object, she agreed! He should have known she was too reasonable to let something that petty interfere with her judgment. "I admit I'm looking forward to the visit. I've heard my father tell stories all my life." 

Jaina grinned at him knowingly. "I know what you want. You just want to fly a TIE fighter."

Jag laughed and kissed her forehead. "Maybe just a little."

"It's okay. I always wanted one too."

"Really?" Jag asked, surprised. 

"Yep. I found one when I was a kid at the Jedi Academy. It had crashed all the way back during the Battle of Yavin. I tried to fix it up, but it got stolen."

"By who?" Jag asked. 

"The pilot," she laughed.

"The pilot was still _alive_?"

"Alive enough to steal my ship and the hyperdrive unit Chewie sent me."

"Chewie?" Jag asked. 

Jaina laughed. "Chewbacca. He's a Wookiee. He's my dad's copilot."

"I thought you didn't get along with your parents," Jag said.

"My mom, never. But it wasn't always that way with my dad. He used to come around a lot after we moved into Uncle Luke's place, and before then he took care of us at home. I think he loves us, at least, but he just got too busy to come see us anymore, or something. I haven't talked to him in a long time, but Chewie kept coming. He even babysat when Uncle Luke was away," Jaina explained.

Jag couldn't imagine a father just 'getting to busy' for his kids like that. Soontir Fel had been gone a lot during Jag's childhood, but he had never forgotten his family. He never shirked his parental responsibilities, and for that Jag was thankful. Jag firmly resolved then that his and Jaina's children— 

He stopped himself in mid-thought, shocked by his own idea. Had he really just thought about having children with Jaina?

Jaina picked up on his sudden spike of emotion and gave him a questioning look. "What was that about?"

"Nothing," Jag answered, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her, or worse, give her any ideas. "Nothing."

"Maybe I should stop by Csilla before I go home," Jaina was saying. They were sitting in the mess hall eating dinner. It was the night before they parted, and both were feeling a little down even though they did their best to hide it from the other.

"Why?" Jag asked, then spooned a bite of mashed protato into his mouth.

"There are some datacards and things I've been working on, letters I've written to everyone that I was going to give them when I went home next year. I might as well take them now. And it's not that out of the way, and won't take long," she answered.

"Well, if you do, can you do a favor for me?"

"Sure." Jaina said, sipping her glass of water.

"Go by the lab and see if they've come up with anything about Shawnkyr's murder. I haven't been able to check in in a long time, and who knows, maybe they've uncovered something."

"Okay," Jaina said. "That shouldn't take long." She was quite for a long moment. "If I finish my business before you do, should I go to Csilla, or the Empire?"

Jag mulled over the question. "By then I say we'd both be ready to see each other again. Just come to Bastion." 

"You know," Jaina said, "when I first got here, all I wanted to do was go home. And now I can't stand the thought of leaving you."

"I know," Jag said, taking her hand. "But think of it this way: I would have to leave you even if you stayed here anyway, at least for a little while. Think of it like a vacation while I'm gone."

Jaina smiled. "I hardly think instructing a group of Jedi in combat is going to be very much like a vacation. In fact, it'll probably be close to the opposite."

"But you'll get to see your brothers and uncle again. And who knows, maybe Mother Dear will pay you a visit, too."

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Now I _know _I don't want to go."

Jaina hugged herself tightly, trying to fight off the cold that only existed in her mind. She watched Jag prep his clawcraft for takeoff, and each second that passed she ached to be back in his arms. She knew it was in her head, that because she knew it would probably be months before she even saw him again she missed him more than usual. They had certainly packed enough loving into one night to last them, but she longed for him anyway, even when he was only a few meters away.

As he set the ship up on its preflight check Jag got out of the craft and climbed down the ladder to say his final goodbyes. Jaina didn't say anything, simply buried her face against his chest and let him hold her tight. "Are you sure you can't, you know, just kind of get lost and end up in the New Republic instead?" she asked finally.

He laughed, but there was little mirth in it. "It'll be okay," he said. "We'll be seeing each other again before you know it."

"I know," she said. Then she looked up into his eyes, letting him know the seriousness of what she was about to say. "You be careful, Jag. The last thing I want is to be widowed at sixteen."

He smiled and kissed her softly. "You won't be."

"Promise me," she said sternly. "Promise me that I'll see you again."

He sighed. "Jaina, do you really want me to promise something that I can't guarantee?" 

"No. I want you to guarantee it. Maybe it'll make you think twice before you take an unnecessary risk or do something rash." 

"Okay," he conceded. "I promise."

"I'm holding you to it," she said as she backed away, letting him board his craft. As she watched his engines flare to life and his repulsorlifts kick in she felt a deep sense sadness. Who knew how long it would be before he could make good on his promise?

The ship they lent Jaina to take back to Csilla was a beauty of a machine. Jaina itched to get her hands on the controls, and her desire to pilot it helped with her loneliness somewhat. She had never piloted a ship by herself before, but she wasn't afraid. She could do this.

As she seated herself in the pilot's chair and ran it through preflight she wondered what her brothers would think of her, especially Jacen. Had they changed as much as she had? Jaina had conveniently neglected to mention in her messages to them that she had fallen in love with Jag. She wasn't sure how they would take it, especially after she denied vehemently ever having anything to do with the man.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of Jag, far from it. She just hated to tell them all that after she had protested so much, it really wasn't all that bad.

But neither did she forgive her mother for doing this to her. Even if she had met a man that she loved dearly, Leia Organa Solo had had no right to impress it all upon her. It was the principle of the matter that angered Jaina. That her own feelings had been so disregarded made her blood boil.

It didn't help matters that Leia continued to see it as the reasonable decision. No apology was forthcoming, and Jaina doubted that she ever would get one. At least from Leia. Jaina was curious as to what part Han had played in Jaina's arranged marriage. She had no idea whether he approved of the match or not, or was simply indifferent to Jaina's fate. Her memories of Han before she had went to live with her Uncle Luke were fond ones. Jacen and she had always been asking to go with him to the _Millenium Falcon_. He let them tinker with it, pretend to fly it. Sometimes they would just take rides around Coruscant, taking turns sitting on his lap and 'helping' with the controls. He would tell stories about Corellia and his smuggling days, and they ate it up. Anakin had been too young then to remember much about that time, but Jaina remembered it well. If Han Solo had played no other role in her life, he was the one who taught her to love flying.

She and her brothers had lived with Luke Skywalker since they were six, however, and Jaina's time with her father dwindled quickly. Every once and a while he would visit or send presents, but not often. He made an effort at the beginning, at least, which was more than Jaina could say for her mother.

These were mostly the kind of thoughts that Jaina had during the short hyperspace ride to Csilla. She mostly reminisced about her old life, the good and the bad. It would never be that way again, she knew. Even though she wouldn't trade Jag for it back, she would miss it all the same.

Thoughts of her dad left Jaina strangely saddened. She had mused over her parents role—or lack of—in her life before, but it had never really bothered her. She had just taken her life as it was, knowing there wasn't anything she could change.

And maybe that was what was bothering her now. She hadn't missed Jag's musing over their children, if they ever decided to have any, even though he thought she had. What kind of parent would Jaina be? She never wanted a child to go through what she did. If they ever—some time in the _far _future—decided that they wanted a family, Jaina wanted to make sure that her children knew their parents, both of them. Until she could make sure of that, Jaina solemnly resolved to never bring a life into the galaxy.

Jag eagerly awaited the _Chimaera _to realize he had dropped into the system. This was the kind of assignment he had always wanted, and he was eager to get started. He missed Jaina already, of course, but his excitement helped take his mind off it. He fervently hoped that he would be given command of a squadron instead of working in the bridge of a Star Destroyer, but he was anxious begin either way.

Finally the saw the small clawcraft, and hailed him. "Unidentified craft, please state your name and intentions," a female voice said.

"This is Colonel Jagged Fel of the Chiss Ascendancy, reporting to Grand Admiral Pallaeon for duty," he said. Meanwhile he eased his clawcraft closer, taking a sweeping overview of the hulking triangular ship. It was impressive to say the least.

"Colonel Fel," a different, male voice came back finally, "we've been expecting you. Please proceed to docking bay 42."

"Acknowledged," Jag said. He watched the tiny blip appear on his screen, indicating the correct port. Jag pushed down on his control stick, lowering himself close to the hull until he could see the officers at their stations. He scanned the ship with wonderment, hungry to become a part of the workings of such a great machine.

As he landed his craft in the bay, he noticed his welcoming party standing close by. The Grand Admiral was among them, along with several stormtroopers and aids. Pallaeon came to meet jag as he disembarked. 

Jag snapped a smart salute as he approached, hoping that was the proper protocol. "At ease," Pallaeon said. "Welcome, Colonel. I cannot express to you how glad I am that the Ascendancy responded so quickly to our request."

Jag took up the 'at ease' pose, spreading his legs and folding his arms behind his back. "I am pleased to be here, Admiral. I am eager to begin."

"Good, good, because there is a lot of work to be done," the aging admiral said. "Follow me, and I'll tell you about your duties."

Jag followed obediently as Pallaeon led his to a turbolift. "Sir," he said when the whole contingent was inside, "how many troops will I be in command of?"

"You will be instructing all my Senior Commanders, who will then report to their individual legions," Pallaeon said. "As for space combat, we've prepared simulators, which you will run with the squad leaders."

"Sir, no disrespect intended, but I do not believe simulators will be enough. It would be much more effective if I could actually be there during space combat," Jag said.

"Very well, whatever you deem necessary. I am leaving the details to you. Frankly, I really don't care how you do it, Colonel, so long as you make my navy into a formidable force. We in the Empire have not suffered such defeat since the days of the Rebellion. I am heartily ashamed of the job we have done against the Yuuzhan Vong."

"Don't worry, Admiral. I have had several months experience with them, and only recently we defeated their flotilla at Gortheba."

"Good," Pallaeon said as the turbolift door opened. He stepped out onto the _Chimaera_'s and beckoned Jag to follow. "When do you think you will be ready to begin?"

"As soon as you can assemble your men," Jag replied.

"Excellent!" Pallaeon said. "Though I should warn you, Colonel, this will probably be a lengthy endeavor. I hope you do not have plans to return to the Ascendancy anytime soon."

Jag sighed. He had known this, of course, but hearing it didn't help any. "I have made the arrangements for a extended stay," Jag said.

Pallaeon smiled beneath his bushy white mustache. "I'm sure we'll keep you busy enough to pass the time quickly." 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Jaina hurried down the icy corridors to the Chief Medic's laboratory. She wanted to do this quickly for Jag and get out. The sooner she headed off the quicker she would return to Jag.

She knocked politely on the metal door. It swooshed open for her almost immediately. Inside the Chiss woman stood over a lab table, scribbling furiously on a piece of flimsiplast. She looked up as Jaina entered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jaina Fel. Colonel Fel is my husband. He sent me to ask whether or not you have made any progress in the Shawnkyr Nouorodo case."

She nodded solemnly. "A little. We uncovered more about the murder of the other young woman as well." 

"Other woman?" Jaina asked.

"The one who was thrown in the furnace," The doctor said, as if Jaina should know. Jaina just pursed her lips and pretended to know what she was talking about. "It appears that they were both killed by the same blaster, linking them to the same murderer. We still have no motive, but scientifically the evidence is sound. Both their autopsies lead us to believe that both were meditated killings, not random acts of violence. We could perhaps break the case if we knew the identity of the furnace woman, but she is too badly burned."

"Maybe I can help with that," Jaina mused.

"How?" the doctor asked, suspicious.

"Do you know the exact location she was murdered in?"

"We know she was killed in the boiler room, but no one from that department is missing. We suspect someone told her to meet them there and killed her while she was waiting." 

Jaina had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, one she couldn't quite explain. What she did know is that the Force was leading her to go there. She didn't know why, but she needed to see the place this woman had died in. "Can you give me directions to this place?"

Jaina stood at the thin metal rail, looking down into the fiery stove. The catwalk she was on extended over the bowls of liquid magma, giving her a perfect view into their depths. She sighed, not really knowing why she was here. The Force had led her to this place, but now that she was there she neither saw or felt anything out of the way.

Perhaps she should look then. Jaina closed her eyes, letting her senses drift through the room. She felt for any lingering taste of death, any malicious intent, fear or pain. For a long while she felt no disturbances in the gently vibrations.

And then there was a twinge. A lingering remembrance of betrayal, anguish and fright. And then nothingness. Death. Jaina breathed deep to settle her racing heart. But it wasn't the feeling of death itself that set her on edge.

It was the person who died.

_Touri_, Jaina moaned inwardly, her heart heavy with grief. How could this have happened? Touri shouldn't have even been on Csilla, she was on vacation...

Jaina jolted with awareness, anger suddenly erupting from her heart like a volcano. It wasn't only Touri who had been betrayed.

Jaina waited until everyone else had left the hangar he was working in. He was alone, finishing up the repairs on a clawcraft. The only sound in the bay was the clanging of a hydrospanner, the buzz of a small welding torch. Jaina approached in utter silence, her footfalls not even making a whisper of a sound on the ferrocrete.

Her blood boiled with anger and betrayal, vengeance foremost in her mind. She had to stop halfway there to calm herself. _You do not do this for vengeance_, Jaina reminded herself._ Jedi do not know anger. You act in the name of justice_. 

His back was to her as he worked, completely unaware of her presence. He was halfway under the craft, working on the side with his feet underneath. When Jaina was three meters away she stopped. And then she reached out with the Force and made a smacking motion with her hand.

Payton's forehead hit the support strut hard enough to make the thud echo in the empty space. He cried out in pain, grabbing his bleeding head and turning to look at her. "Jaina? What the hell are you doing?"

Jaina grabbed him in her mental grip again, this time throwing him forcefully against the ferrocrete under her feet. He moaned and looked up at her. "What was the motive, Payton?" Jaina asked acidly. "What sick reason do you have for killing your sister?"

Payton looked at her irascibly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Save it," Jaina scoffed. "You can't lie to me. And you can't lie to the Defense Force either." She turned, then, intent on tracking down the nearest officer she could find. It was only her Jedi reflexes that saved her. She spun a split second before the blaster bolt hit her, swinging her lightsaber to send the bolt ricocheting back to hit him in the chest. He fell back heavily against the floor. 

Jaina walked calmly to stand over him. He was still alive, but his breathing was shallow. He would go into shock soon. Jaina lowered the tip of her lightsaber until it hovered above his neck. "I can save you Payton," Jaina said. "All it takes is a few words." 

"What do you want from me?" he rasped, then coughed up blood.

"Why?" she asked simply.

He laughed wickedly. "I only did as I was told."

"Who?" she hissed, kneeling until her face was centimeters from his. "Who told you?"

He laughed again, then shoved a finger inside his throat. He grimaced and moaned after he pulled it out, and a few seconds later a disgusting, worm-like creature slithered out of his ear. Jaina was appalled. "I do not know his name," Payton said. "Only that he was called the Executor."

"But why?" Jaina asked, more to herself than to him.

Payton coughed up more blood, and began to chill and shiver. "The war. Shawnkyr's death would drive him away from you. Touri's death allowed me to get close. If I could get you to leave him, the alliance would fail and they could pick apart the galaxy one government at a time."

Jaina couldn't believe the complexity and barbarity of the plan. That such a contorted plot could be formed was unspeakable. And to think that it almost worked. Had she and Jag not been meant for each other, had they not fallen in love despite Payton's efforts, they entire galaxy could very well have been consumed. She watched Payton go into his death throes, knowing no amount of medicine could save him in time. She could try to preserve him in the Force, but it would be a useless gesture. He was too fargone. Finally he let out one last terrible shudder, then went still.

Jaina continued to stand over the corpse, not feeling any better than she had when she came. Finally she shook off the shock of what she had just learned and went to find someone to retrieve the body.

Jag wiped the sweat out of his eyes for the fourth time. He pulled the clawcraft into a dive, dodging a plasma blast the size of a Gundark head. He immediately rotated his craft on its axis, flipping the claw-like lasers 180 degrees to point back at his opponent and kicking in the reverse thrusters. He fired four short bursts. The first two were swallowed in the dovin basal gravity wells, the third punched directly through the coralskipper canopy, and the fourth set broke the ship into pieces.

He pulled up on his stick, flying over the debris and back towards the _Chimaera_. He had been with the Imperial Remnant not a full two days when they had been attacked. That's when Jag realized just how desperate they were.

TIE parts floated everywhere, and the _Chimaera _was being swarmed by skips. Not to mention that it was being hammered by the Vong frigate. The Star Destroying was holding its own, though. It was the snubfighter pilots that were at a loss. With most of them without shields, they were being decimated. Thankfully, most of them had gone EV and would live to fight another day.

There was a terrible fray under the Star Destroyer's belly, and that's where Jag made for. TIEs and skips danced in a terrible death duel, and the space was cluttered with debris. As Jag neared the battle he scanned the area and locked onto a target. He dove in, driving straight for the heart of the fight. As his target came in range he loosed two quick bursts in rapid succession. Both were swallowed by gravity wells.

Now alerted to his presence, the skip turned and came back at Jag, firing three plasma balls. Jag pulled his stick hard to port and then quickly back to starboard, lining up exactly where he had been. His opponent dove then, but Jag pulled back on the stick, looping back around in the opposite direction. He armed a proton torpedo as he went, and when they both completed their contrasting arcs and the skip lined up in his sights, Jag fired twice with his lasers then loosed the torpedo. The lasers were both swallowed, but the torpedo hit dead on. It drove all the way through the skip and exploded on the other side, consuming the skip in its flame.

Jag pulled lazily back to starboard, searching for a new quarry. Before he could find one however, he was hammered from behind as he was hit dead-on by a plasma ball. His ship bucked and jumped, and threatened to spin out of control. Alarms went off everywhere, and all his settings dropped into the red. His shields were at twenty percent. Not good. 

He finally managed to get some measure of control, and searched his scopes desperately for the skip who had fired on him. It was tailing him closely, searching for an opening. Jag began to juke and jink wildly, swerving back and forth and up and down, making sure it could never get off a clear shot. Still it stuck with him. 

Desperate, he eyed the swarming mass where his comrades were engaged. He headed for the middle of it, crossing through the area most congested with crossfire. As he neared it his promise to Jaina rose eerily into the front of his mind. Making a run like that was crazy, and he was sure she wouldn't mind telling him so. But it was that or outrun the skip on his tail.

Jag decided to take the run.

He shot right through the center of it, pushing his engines for all they were worth. Both plasma and lasers crossed in front of and all around him, some missing, by barely a hair's breadth. Somehow he managed to emerge from the other side unscathed. He checked his scopes, and smiled gratifyingly as he saw that his pursuer had not.

He had just turned to go back towards the fight when the _Chimaera_'s bridge control came over his comm unit. "All squadrons, report back to the command ship. Repeat, make and orderly retreat."

Jag ground his teeth at having to flee a battle. Not that they weren't justified in making such a decision; the snubfighters had been annihilated. But retreat in general irked him. It was like admitting you were weaker, inferior. That was just something that Jag didn't do.

Until he had made his promise to Jaina. He had to live to see her again; he would not break his promise to her. And so he turned back towards the _Chimaera _without so much as a grumble of complaint. If retreat is what would let him hold her again, kiss her in the quiet of the night, then he was willing to retreat.

There was a message on his computer. Jag felt a spike of excitement, knowing the only person who would send one there would be Jaina.

He had just been making a few repairs after the battle when the small alert had went off. He was so excited that he could barely keep his solemn demeanor as he climbed the ladder and seated himself in the cockpit. Sure enough, the message light was blinking. Taking a deep breath, he depressed the button.

Jaina appeared in the holofield, shown only from the shoulders up. She smiled beautifully, and Jag's heart leapt into his throat. Oh, he missed her. "Hey," she said. "I hope this isn't coming in the middle of battle or something. I'd hate to distract you. But I do have great news. Well, I guess I'll let you decide that. I'm on Csilla, and I went to see the medic. She didn't have much of a lead, but I did a little investigative work, and guess what? We found the killer!"

Jag looked incredulously at her beaming face, wondering if he had heard her right. "Now, this is the part I'm not sure how you'll take. Jag, the killer was Payton." Jag leaned back in his seat, even more stunned than he had been a few seconds before. "I know, I couldn't believe it either. I confronted him, he tried to shoot me, and I sent the bolt back at him. He's dead, Jag. But I found out a few things before he died. He was a Yuuzhan Vong spy. They had this gross worm thing implanted in his ear. He though that if he could make us break up then the Republic-Chiss alliance would fall, too. Can you believe how close that came to happening? If we hadn't really loved each other the whole galaxy could have fallen."

She was quiet for a moment, her eyes simply seeming to stare across space and time, right into his soul. "I miss you, Jag. I've missed you since you lifted off out of that hangar. I can't wait until I can see you again. Until then, take care my love. I'll call again when I reach Coruscant." 

The message blinked off. Jag ran a hand through his hair, not sure what to make of all he had learned. He did know that hearing from Jaina made the separation no more bearable. He doubted that he would have a decent nights' sleep until he saw her with his own eyes again.

Jaina felt her heart skip a beat as she pulled the hyperspace lever back and the cityscape of Coruscant resolved itself in her viewport. It was exactly as she remembered it. Slowly she pushed the control stick forward, making a slow descent into atmosphere. She had to shield her presence from the moment she entered the system, knowing that Jacen would sense her. She wanted her sudden appearance to be a surprise.

She made for the Senate District, where her family had its own private landing pad. She made a smooth landing and powered down without incident. She wasn't sure where to go first. While she knew she should go directly to her Uncle's penthouse, part of her just wanted to relish in the city itself. She wanted to go shopping, or eat at her favorite restaurant. But all that was frivolous, and Jaina didn't have the luxury of time.

She hailed a hovertaxi to take her to the right building. The Skywalker apartment was in the rich upperclass district, close to the center of everything. It wasn't that her Uncle Luke wanted it that way, but rather Leia Organa Solo wanted it that way. She wouldn't have people think she let her children live just anywhere.

As she rode the turbolift to the 1470th floor Jaina felt a prickle of nervousness. She hadness seen or even talked to any of them in far too long, and she was a little uncertain of their reactions. She _thought _they would be happy, but one just never knew. As the door slid open Jaina held her breath.

And expelled it loudly as she saw the living quarters were empty. She stepped out into the living room, letting the door close behind her. She didn't open herself to the Force however, wanting them to make the discovery on their own.

Jaina walked quietly through the apartment, just observing the subtle changes. There were pieces of incomplete engines and turbines everywhere; those were Anakin's. A lightsaber remote still hung lifeless in the air; that was Uncle Luke's. An open holopad with the history of the Krayt Dragon lay on the kitchen table; that was Jacen's. She could feel their aura's still lingering in the place. The whole house was filled with happy emotions, laughter and camaraderie. Jaina ached to be a part of it. 

"Jaina?"

She turned to see Anakin standing behind her, mouth agape. She smiled at him. "Hey, brother."

And then they were hugging, embracing fiercely like that hadn't seen each other in a thousand years. "What are you doing here?" he asked. 

"I'll explain all that later," Jaina said, pulling away. "Where's Jace and Uncle Luke?"

"They'll be here in a minute. I just came from the gym. We've been running through a different lightsaber technique. But what happened? Why are you here? Do the Chiss know you came?"

"I told you, I'll explain all that when everyone—"

"Jaina!" Jacen's smiling face appeared in the doorway. They hugged tightly, letting all the missing pieces fall into place, their twin bond blossoming. 

"Jaina?" a new voice asked.

Jaina smiled at her incredulous uncle, then found herslef being swept up into a fatherly embrace. Jaina smiled against his shoulder, feeling as if she could never be any happier. She felt tears began to streak down her face, and she wiped at them furiously.

"Are you okay? What happened, why are you here?" Luke was asking.

"Let's all go sit down," Jacen suggested, and Jaina nodded her agreement. They went back into the living room and took a seat, the three men on the couch facing Jaina.

Jaina had thought the whole trip what she would say in this moment, but now that it was there she was at a loss for words. Finally she managed to find her voice. "First I want to say that I'm fine. I'm not here because of anything the Chiss did, or didn't do, or because of Jag. Everything is going well with them." She decided to save the falling in love part for later. "I'm here because of my duty to you, as a Jedi."

"I don't understand," Luke said, perplexed.

"For several weeks I've been traveling with Jag and the Chiss task force. They've been fighting a terrible enemy, one that they say may have even come from another galaxy." Jaina paused to let this sink in. "And one that exists outside the Force."

A rolling wave of shock, disbelief and doubt rolled off of them all. "No," Anakin said. "That's not possible."

"But it is. I can't sense them or any of their technology. Everything they use is alive, bred for a purpose; even their ships are organic. And none of it can be sensed. They're called the Yuuzhan Vong. I went on a search-and-destroy mission into one of their battle cruisers, and I faced many of them. Their shell-like armor repels lightsabers, and their snake-like weapons do to. They're called vonduun crab armor and amphistaffs. I had to come here in person and tell you all about this. They're fierce enemies, and if we don't hurry and learn how to effectively defeat them we could lose eveything."

Luke and her brothers were silent for a very long time. Finally Luke said, "I hope aren't exaggerating any of this, Jaina, because the implications of what you say are dire."

"That's why I had to come here."

"What should we do, Uncle Luke?" Jacen asked.

Luke shook his head. "I don't know, Jacen. I wish I did."

"I also came because there are certain ways you have to fight Vong warriors, ways that I can teach you," Jaina added.

"Good," Luke said. "And we'll start on that tomorrow. But for right now, i need to go meditate."

As he turned to leave Jaina jumped to her feet, remembering something important that she had forgotten. "Wait! I found a spy among the Chiss, and he had this implant." she pulled a small, sealed test tube from her pocket. Inside was the revolting slug-like creature. "Here. Try to sense it for yourself."

Luke took the vial in his hand, wrinkling his nose and the unpleasant sight. Then he closed his eyes and stretched out. Immediately his brow furrowed with concentration, and finally strain before he gave up. "You're right. It's as if nothing is even in there. Just...emptiness."

They passed the vial around, each one trying but failing to sense the creature. "What can this mean?" Jacen asked.

"I don't know, Jacen," Luke sighed. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

Jaina sat on the open terrace, watching the sun slowly sink behind the skyline. It was good to be home. Even the smog smelled to good. But her happiness at reuniting with her family couldn't diminish her ache to be back with Jag. He had occupied her thoughts almost all evening. She kept wondering what he was doing, whether he was hurt or in danger, or whether he was just eating dinner in the mess hall. Did he like the Remnant? How as the training going? There were so many things she wanted to know. Most of all she just wanted to be able to touch him, be able to know and see and feel for herself that he was alive and well.

She remembered how when she had been on the Vong ship she had been able to touch him with the Force. He couldn't respond, or sense the Force itslef, or even distinguish that it was her touching him; but she could feel _him_. Perhaps it was because they were so close in proximity. She doubted it would work again over so long a distance. But she was willing to try.

She closed her eyes and breathed deep, centering herself. She reached deep down inside herself, into the place in her heart that was his alone. She grasped at the presence she knew so well, putting it foremost in her thoughts. Then she pushed out.

Her awareness swept quickly and unthinkingly over the multitude of Coruscant. She pushed out into the reaches of space, out of the solar system and into the void. She felt worlds and lifeforms, but they were not her concern. She pushed all the way to the rim of Known Space. _Bastion_. 

And there he was, like a beacon in her darkness. She could feel him like he was sitting right next to her, almost taste his kiss, feel his skin. Knowing he was alive and well was enough. She withdrew then, pulling quickly back in on herself until it was just Jaina again, sitting on the terrace of her uncle's apartment on a usual Coruscant evening.

"What was that about?"

Jaina jumped, startled by Jacen's voice. She had not sensed him approach. She patted the chair beside her, motioning for him to sit. Only when he did did she respond. "What was what about?"

"That Force thingy you just did. What were you trying to feel?"

Jaina continued to stare at the setting sun, the clouds bathed in its orangy-red light. "I just wanted to see if Jag was all right. They sent him to the Imperial Remnant to help with the war effort there." 

Jacen was quiet for a while. "I take it you two have come to an understanding, then?"

Jaina mused over the question, wondering how to answer. But she knew it was useless to try to hide anything from him. He knew her too well. "I love him."

Jacen's shock was palpable. "And...he loves you too?"

"Yes," she said softly, examining her fingernails so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze.

"When did _this _happen? And why didn't you tell me?" Jacen asked at long last.

Jaina sighed. "It came upon me so suddenly...I don't know when to tell you, Jace. But I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure how you'd take it." 

"Why did you think I would be anything but happy for you?" 

"I don't know. I guess I just thought you would criticize me for being so adamantly against him and then changing my mind," Jaina answered.

"Everyone has the right to change their opinions, Jaina," Jacen said, "especialy when its a preconceived one.

"True," Jaina conceded. "I was just afraid of disappointing you."

Jacen shook his head. "I'm happy for you Jaina. You're lucky to have it turn out so well. If you're stuck with him, I guess it's a good thing you like him."

Jaina laughed. "You're right about that, Jace. You're right about that."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Jagged Fel despised arrogance. Some might say that was a hypocritical perspective, but he had never pictured himself as arrogant. He was confident of his abilities, but just as aware of his limits. He knew he couldn't do everything. And he knew that somewhere, there was someone who was better than him at everything. That didn't bother Jag. He was realistic about the world around him, and never let his mind stray from the actuality of any situation.

But the Imperial commander in front of him was arrogant. He wasn't self-assured, he wasn't overly optimistic. He was arrogant. Everything about him screamed of his self-righteous dignity, his vanity. It was this galling flaw that caused him to make supercilious comments when Jag tried to explain the mechanics of a coralskipper, or the importance of the yammosk. It was this that made him tell Jag that he shouldn't be so pompous to assume to should try to tell them how to fly a TIE fighter. And it was this unfounded self -opinion that caused him to ask Jag if all Chiss thought they were as brilliant as Thrawn.

A muscle in Jag's jaw twitched. It was the only outward sign that his grim demeanor had been breached. He ground his teeth as he stared at the man—Commander Ean Thorn—wondering how he should respond to such a blatant veiled insult. Finally he said, "Thrawn lacked the ability to meet Chiss standards. He broke one of our most important laws, and was banished for it. Perhaps if he had been wise enough to follow our edict he would have been able to defeat the Rebellion."

Thorn went silent, his eyes revealing his anger at the not-so-veiled insult to their most vaunted Grand Admiral. "Now," Jag continued, "I suggest you stop speaking before you embarrass yourself any further." He looked away, back down at his datapad, effectively ending any response the inept officer might have made. Jag studied the datacard, the one Jaina had gave him to present to commander Naidi. Finding the spot he had left off with, he continued.

"Yuuzhan Vong ships are propelled and defended by the same organism. It's called a dovin basal, and acts like a gravity well projector. Since it propels and defends, firing numerous low-powered shots degrades maneuverability. You can also overwhelm the dovin basal with enough shots in quick succession because it can only do so much at one time."

"That's why you said wingmates were so important," another commander said, a young man probably three years older than Jag named Elkanah Eliab. "If you both target the same skip and fire in close sequence you can take out skips easier."

Jag smiled inwardly, but only nodded his assent to the commander. Not all the men Jag was instructing were grandiloquent. Many of them he related to well, even admired. Those such as Eliab were well-trained and disciplined soldiers with a will to learn and protect their government. Jag respected that. In fact, he respected most of those he had become acquainted with so far. The Remnant was not the Empire of old, full of tyranny and corruption. They weren't xenophobes and bigots. Women and aliens alike rose in their ranks, though the number of aliens still remained sparse. The Imperial Remnant was a government with the same basic ideals and beliefs as the Chiss, except they were human.

Jag found himself relating to his new comrades in a way he had never expected. He had lived as an outsider, an alien himself for his whole life. It was strange to be among his own kind, people who didn't immediately assume he was lesser because of his race. Here he was welcomed because of the aid he was providing, and because of who his father had once been. Everyone knew the legendary flying of Baron Fel, and assumed Jag to be just as great.

But it wasn't the praise Jag enjoyed about the Remnant. He had earned enough of that back home, and he had never desired that anyways. Jag liked the humor, the comraderie, the oh too human emotions he had never been exposed to before. It was strange and uncomfortable, mainly because he wasn't sure how to respond, but pleasant all the same. He realized then that perhaps there was something he had missed by being raised in the Ascendancy. He had glimpsed it when he met Jaina, but it was different. Now he understood the New Republic wasn't subordinate to the Ascendancy. It was just different. And maybe different wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"The weak points in their armor are underneath the arm, under the skirtplates, and through the holes in their helmets," Jaina was saying.

"I still don't understand how you can fight them without being able to anticipate their movements," Anakin said.

"That's why you need a sensitive danger sense," Luke said. "You allow the Force to protect you, guide your movements."

Anakin shook his head. "I still don't get it."

"Let me show you," Luke said, rising. He took his lightsaber off his belt and ignited it. Anakin stood and did the same. Luke then proceded to shut his presence completely off from the Force, hiding himself in it. "Can you sense me?"

"No," Anakin replied.

Luke lunged, slashing once at his midsection, crossing over towards his knee, then back up at his head. Anakin blocked all three. "Then how are you blocking my attacks?"

"Oh," Anakin said, then turned off his saber and sat. "I get it now."

"It's still harder than being able to get a feel of your opponents thoughts and intentions,"Jaina said. "Especially when they have so few weaknesses. Our advantage has been cut."

Luke shook his head. "The Force is the greatest ally we will ever need. It's when you've been stripped of everything else that you realize it's all you ever needed. Even if we can't use it in the same ways we have gotten used to, it doesn't mean our strength in it has been diminished." 

"But Uncle Luke," Jacen said, "what about what all this _means_? How can something alive exist outside the Force if the Force is life itself?"

"I don't understand either, Jacen," Luke replied. "It doesn't seem logical. Just because they are from a different place shouldn't disconnect them from the Force." 

"Could the Force be inherent only to our galaxy?" Jacen pressed.

"I don't see how that's possible."

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Anakin said. "All that matters is that it _is_, and we have to take care of it. I want to know how to fight them, Jaina."

Jaina nodded solemnly. "It's not _that _different from normal combat. You just have to watch for things. Their weapons could change at a moment's notice from a sword to a spear to a whip. When it's like that it can spit venom at you too. They have bugs that they throw at you that just keep coming back until they shred you to pieces, or you kill them. And then there are others that can crack a rib. Believe me, I know."

"How do you practice that?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm here more to train _with _you than actually train you," Jaina replied. 

"These are things that all the Jedi need to know," Luke said suddenly. "They need to be told."

"Are you suggesting calling them all home?" Jacen asked.

Luke nodded gravely. "Yes, Jacen. We need to call them home."

Jaina stood outside the large ornate wooden door, not sure whether to knock or run. It hadn't been her idea, and she wasn't happy about it. In fact, she was so nervous she was shivering. She shouldn't be there. It wasn't her place. It wasn't her job.

All she had done was mention to her uncle that she had been thinking about her parents lately. He had asked 'what kind of thinking', and she had told him. She told him about wondering what her father thought about her marriage, and why he had stopped coming to see them. Luke had then fairly ordered her to go ask him.

She had argued, of course, telling him it wasn't important and she had just been thinking about it because she was bored. She really didn't want to know. Really.

He hadn't bought it. Then she had pleaded, telling him she didn't want to confront her father, that he had a right to his own life and it was none of her business. She told him she didn't care, it was just stray thoughts, a stray comment. Nothing serious. Reminiscing.

That failed too. After realizing this wasn't something she was going to get out of, she stated firmly that if she had to go, Jacen and Anakin should have to some with her. It was their father, too. But Luke had gently reminded her that this was her problem she needed to confront, and her brother would confront it in their own time when they were ready.

_And what makes you think I'm ready_? Jaina thought as she stared at the door. She had scanned the apartment with the Force several times to make sure her mother wasn't home, only Han. Still she hesitated. _This is silly_, Jaina thought, resolving herself. _I shouldn't be afraid of him. I'm an adult. We're on an equal playing field. _

With that in mind she knock loudly three times. Several seconds later it opened to reveal a gleaming golden protocol droid. "Why, Mistress Jaina! Whatever are _you _doing here?" See-Threepio asked.

"Hi, Threepio," Jaina said simply. "Can I come in?"

"Well certainly!" he exclaimed, moving aside so she could step over the threshold.

"I see Mother's redecorated since I was here last," Jaina commented as she examined the expensive new furniture. 

"Why yes. It's a most delightful fabric. She purchased it from—"

"I don't really care," Jaina cut him off, wanting to get the whole thing over with. "Can you go find Dad for me?"

"Of course, of course," Threepio muttered as he scampered of. "Make yourself comfortable and I'll return momentarily."

Jaina sat on the couch, feeling awkward. As she waited she imagined what it would have been like to grow up in such a house. Probably not nearly as much fun.

"Jaina?" 

Jaina turned to see Han Solo standing behind her. He looked as if you could have pushed him over with a feather. "Hi," Jaina said meekly.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, circling the couch to stand in front of her. "You're supposed to be...well, not here."

"Can't I stop by to say hi?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, sure," he said, clearly befuddled. Carefully he sat down in the chair opposite her. They sat in silence for several minutes, neither sure where to begin.

"Um," he said finally, "how's, uh, married life treating you?"

Jaina grinned tightly. "How do you think?"

He clearly had no idea what the proper reply was, and so wisely didn't answer but moved on. "Are they treatin' you good?"

"As well as can be expected," she said cryptically.

"Well. So, um, what brings you to Coruscant?"

"War," she said, not wanting to give away any secrets. She hadn't been told what she shouldn't say, but she did know that the Ascendancy had neglected to tell the Republic of the Yuuzhan Vong threat, and that wasn't a can of worms Jaina wanted to spill. "Jag wanted me away from it."

"Hm," Han said. He was so apparently uncomfortable that Jaina could have laughed. "So. Is he good to you?"

"Very," Jaina replied in truth. That was one think she would never fudge the truth on.

"Well he better be," Han replied. "No one's going to mistreat my little girl."

Jaina did laugh then. "Dad, I haven't even talked to you face-to-face in two years. Since when did I become your little girl?"

"Hey, you have _always _been my little girl," Han snapped. "And you always will be, whether you believe me or not."

"Oh, you mean when it's convenient?" Jaina asked. "Or just when you're not too busy to spare me a thought?"

Han stood angrily. "Go ahead and be angry. But letting you go live with Luke wasn't my decision. We were at war, and you three had already been kidnapped twice. You were safer with him. I'm not a Jedi, I can't protect you like he can." 

"But you could have visited," Jaina snapped. "You could have called. You could have come to dinner once and a while. Maybe pretend like you care."

"I didn't have a choice, Jaina!" he barked. "Leia and Luke both agreed that you needed structure. Do you remember when I used to visit? After I left, you kids got so tore up you cried for hours. My coming around was tearing you apart. You were better off just with Luke."

Jaina felt her eyes brimming with angry tears. "But what about this? What about selling me off like some damned piece of furniture so Mom could get her peace treaty? Did you even think about what you were doing? _You gave up your daughter for a peace treaty_!"

"That wasn't my peace treaty," Han said evenly. "Your mother didn't raise the suggestion, the Chiss Ambassador did, and the Senate approved before your mom could. What could we do then? Nothing but make sure you would have everything you needed."

Jaina looked away, hating his excuses because they made sense, at least by a certain perspective. "You didn't even say goodbye."

Han came to kneel in front of the couch and took her hand in his. Jaina tried to pull away but he held firm. "Would that have made it any easier? Or harder? I love you, Jaina, whether you believe me or not. I couldn't help the things that happened to you. I would have if I could. I know you're mad, and you have a right to be. But please, just think about what I've told you."

Jaina jerked away and stood. "I don't need to. I've heard all I need to hear." She turned then and ran out, leaving him still kneeling by the sofa.

Jaina flopped onto her bed—_her _bed, the one she had grown up with—and didn't move just laid there, face-down. She had come home and went straight to her room, not talking or even looking at anyone. She just wanted to be alone, to rebuild her walls of bitterness to protect her. She didn't like this emotion, this ache to forgive him. She wanted rid of it. And so she laid in her room, the dusky light spilling through her transparisteel window.

Someone knocked on her door. "Go away," she said, the sound muffled by her pillow. Instead of complying, the door opened. Jacen came and sat down on the bed beside her, silent. Waiting for her to tell him. 

After a long while she finally decided to talk. "He tried to make it seem like it wasn't his fault," Jaina growled. "Like he was so innocent, and it was the galaxy's fault he's not a good father."

"What did he say?" Jacen questioned softly. 

Jaina sighed, but knew he had as much of a right to know as she did. "He said that he gave us away in the first place because we were safer with Uncle Luke. And then he didn't visit because when he did at first we would get all emotional and upset after he left." 

Jacen was quiet for a moment. "I remember that," he said finally. "I used to plead with him to take me home, hold onto his leg until he had to pry me off. It wasn't because I didn't like it here; I loved living with Uncle Luke. But I just missed him, and every time he left it was like I was being abandoned all over again." 

Jaina rolled over onto her back. "I never cried. I would hold Anakin while he did. I thought it was my job to take care of him."

"What about your marriage?" Jacen asked.

Jaina felt her temperature rise a few degrees at the mention of it. "He said he didn't have a choice in that either. That the Senate voted on the agreement before he ever knew anything had happened, and that there was nothing he could do after that. He made it sound like there wasn't anything Mom could do either."

"Well, I don't by that, but I understand the rest," Jacen said.

"You forgive him?" Jaina scoffed, incredulous.

"I might as well. There's nothing I can change. And even if his reasons don't make sense now, he probably thought he was doing the best thing at the time. And who knows; maybe he was."

Jaina snorted derisively, but inwardly couldn't deny that he was probably right. She was completely sure that it had been the right choice. She had had a happy childhood, and Uncle Luke had made a great dad. She had traveled and learned of the Force, had so many adventures that shaped her, adventures she might have never had otherwise.

And even her marriage had turned out for the best. She loved Jag, and if they hadn't forced her into it they probably never would have met. That was a prospect Jaina didn't want to ponder.

Sometimes she did wonder what would have happened had the two of them fallen in love before they were married, like normal people did. She snickered at the prospect of dating, of always wonder how things were going to turn out. Before they had fallen in love, even when they fought they both knew that afterwards they were going home to the same place, sleeping in the same bed. They never doubted that they would get over it, pick up and move on. They had no other choice.

"So what do I do, Jacen? Go back and grovel, tell him I forgive him for never being there when I needed him?"

"That's up to you, Jaina," he said, standing. "I can't help you with a decision like that. I can only tell you how I feel."

He turned to leave, but Jaina stopped him as he reached the door. "Jacen?"

"Yeah?" he said, turning back to look at her.

"You never hated them for it, did you?"

He shook his head. "They have a galaxy to run, Jaina. That's a task bigger than anything I would ever want to take on. No parents are perfect. How can you expect ours to even do the same job everyone else does, with everything they have on their shoulders? They did the best they could in a bad situation. We grew up together, with an uncle who we never doubted loved us. I don't think I could ask much more of them than that."

Jaina sighed. "Why do you insist on always setting me back on my feet again, right when I want to wallow in my sorrow?"

Jacen smiled. "Hey, that's what twins are for. Goodnight, Jaina. I love you."

"Good night, Jacen. I love you, too." 


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Luke Skywalker was the galaxy's hero. Everyone knew the name of the man who destroyed the Death Star, defeated the Palpatine and his evil servant; the man who conquered an Empire. He had been the light of hope in a world of darkness. And it had been his job to spread the light from a flickering flame into the mighty starflare it had once been. He was the keeper of the Jedi, the last of an ancient religion that bound the galaxy together.

He had done his job well. 

The Jedi Academy on Yavin IV had so far knighted over four hundred students, pupils that upheld the Code of the Jedi of the Old Republic. At present there were fifty younglings who had been apprenticed to Masters, and twenty-five who were yet too young to be inducted into apprenticeship.

The Order as a whole was scattered. The Jedi were trained in the arts, then released to complete the will of the Force, whatever that may be. But each deferred to Skywalker as their unanimous leader, their commander. If he beckoned, they came.

Over the past two weeks, Luke had spent hours contacting his Knights. He was kept informed of their activities, their doings, and so it wasn't difficult to place most of them and summon them to Coruscant. What took time was just the sheer number. Of course, those at the Academy were brought as one, arriving in large freighters full of younglings. By and by they all came, some coming in groups, having hitched rides with each other, and some coming alone in the middle of the night. But by the deadline they were all there.

Jaina surveyed the mass gathering that was the end result with mixed feelings. She felt exultation at being in an area that was so permeated with the Force even the Force-blind would have known. It was an electric hum in the air, a vibe so strong she could almost see the currents flowing back and forth. She also felt kinship, a deep knowledge that everyone in the room was related to her in a way that real families couldn't be. These were men and women who would fight and die for her, and she would return the favor in kind. But underneath was a sadness that she couldn't deny. Even though her bond with these Jedi was unbreakable, she was now different.

She was with the Chiss.

She could see it in their eyes as she passed, the curiousity; the pity. She was separate because of who she was, because of who her parents were; because of who she was married to. Some of these Jedi would have preferred to fight their differences out with the Chiss rather than have a negotiated peace. And now they saw Jaina as one of them. She had lived too long among the enemy to be just the niece of Master Skywalker. They no doubt assumed that she had been influenced by their alien ways, changed by the hardness of their culture. And they were wary of her for it.

"Jaina," a voice said behind her. She turned quickly, recognizing the voice. At the sight of the woman in front of her she broke into a broad grin.

"Aunt Mara!" she ran to embrace her aunt. Mara Jade had married Luke when Jaina had been eleven, but while Luke traveled between Coruscant and Yavin IV Mara spent most of her time adventuring with Mirax Terrik or assisting Jedi academy graduates during offworld assignments. As a result the two saw each other rarely, but their relationship had always remained fully intact. Jaina hadn't spent much time with Mara, but admired what of her she did know. Mara had taught her more than a few tricks from her assassin days, and Jaina looked up to her spirited drive. "I'm so glad you came!"

Mara returned her embrace enthusiastically. "I could hardly do otherwise, could I?" but her smile revealed nothing of the reluctance she spoke of. "How have you been, Jaina? When Luke told me..."

Jaina looked at the ground. Why was that the first thing everyone asked her? Did no one think she was strong enough to bear up? "I'm fine, Aunt Mara. More than fine. But I'll tell you all about it later. I think Uncle Luke is getting ready to start."

They both took a seat on the stony floor. Everyone had started to sit, crossing their legs under them and making a roughly circular formation around where Luke sat. When everyone was settled he began to talk. "Over the years we have known each other—and I have trained you _all _at one point or another—we have faced many evils. But recently a discovery was made by my niece, Jaina, that could change us forever." He continued on to explain the Yuuzhan Vong threat, and everything Jaina had learned about them. He explained the situation they were in, and, finally, he pulled the slug Jaina had brought from his pocket and passed it around. No one could feel a presence. "The question is, what do we do about it?" he finished.

It was quiet in the hall for a long time. Finally Anakin raised his voice. "I think we need to do whatever we can to discourage them. We need to attack, before they attack us." A murmur of agreement rose in the crowd. Jaina could feel Mara scowling behind her.

"We don't know their intentions towards us yet. We can't attack without being provoked," she said. Most of the older Jedi bobbed their heads in agreement.

Jaina turned to face her aunt. "That's true. But its also our duty to protect the weak and innocent. I've heard what they've done to Chiss captives. They torture them, endlessly, then implant them with devices that control them; enslave them. The Yuuzhan Vong are inhumane monsters. They _enjoy _pain, and inflicting it on others. If we don't act now, we could lose our slight advantage."

Jaina could see many approve of her statement—even Mara seemed to assent—but still some withheld judgment.

"Jaina and Anakin are right," Kyp Durron said, standing. "My danger sense is tingling just _talking _about these guys. We need to move, and in force."

Luke lowered his head, studying the floor beneath him. When he raised it his eyes were resolute. "I can't make a decision like this without trying to compromise first. Which means that we need to go talk to them." 

"Talk?" Kyp balked.

"You misunderstand me," Luke said. "I want to go and talk, observe whether they are as inherently evil as Jaina believes. But I want to take a team with me. If I decide they pose a significant threat, we'll destroy them." 

"How will you know where to go?" Corran Horn asked. 

"What about Jaina?"Miko Reglia suggested. "Can't she get all that from the Chiss?" This time the ripple of agreement that ran through the group was almost unanimous.

Jaina was appalled. "I can't do that. If they knew the information I had already given you..."

"Why not?" Corran asked. "This is for the Jedi, Jaina. For the welfare of all. Surely you don't have such an allegiance to the Chiss that you can't slip a little information to us?"

_Not to the Chiss_, Jaina thought angrily. _My allegiance is to Jag_. "I can't betray their trust like that." _I can't betray _his _trust like that_. 

"Jaina," Kyp said, his voice compassionate, "we're _Jedi_. The information is going to a good cause. It could save the Chiss more heartache in the long run. Besides, your first priority is to the good of the Order; isn't it?"

Jaina didn't know what to say. The road they had led her down was covered in quicksand. The only way to save herself was to agree with them. She looked around, hoping for any support. Uncle Luke and Anakin wouldn't meet her gaze. Even Jacen wore a guilty expression.

It was in this moment that she had an epiphany. This was her lot in life, to be used for other's gain. '_For the good of all _'. She ground her teeth, wanting to sob. She had been shipped off for this 'greater good'. She had made the best of that situation, and now the 'greater good' was trying to steal that away too. They were taking advantage of her, of her misfortune, to help themselves. Her position with Jag allowed her access to what they needed, and that was all that mattered to them. If she lost her husband in the process, well, what was that to them?

Jaina took a deep breath and closed her eyes, drawing the strength for what she was about to do. _Oh Jag_, she thought fleetingly, _please be able to forgive me_. She opened her eyes and looked at her uncle. Very quietly she whispered, "I will do as you ask."

Jag jerked his clawcraft into a spin, corkscrewing over the forested terrain as he poured fire onto the Vong groundtroops below. Three coralskippers tailed him closely, but that was fine with Jag. Their missed plasma bursts only added to the chaos on the ground.

He pulled up, doing a vertical climb. As he neared the first layer of atmosphere he rotated his ball-shaped cockpit in a half turn, turning his craft back the face the forest floor and his pursuers. He fired steadily, spraying the noses of their craft with laserfire and forcing them to break formation. As he rocketed through the area they had once occupied three pair of TIES appeared from out of the vacuum, one pair turning to pursue each of the skips.

Jag smiled at the precision of the maneuver. It had been well planned, and well executed. He would have to remember to tell them so later. He turned his craft back towards the heart of the land battle. He made a sweeping pass over the mass of captured natives, each implanted with coral pieces that overrode their will, making them fight for their captors. As much as he hated to do it, he peppered their ranks with laserfire, cutting down five with each shot and leaving small craters in the ground that would make it hard for the other Vong to traverse later. He turned to make another pass when his comm beeped. "Fel," he said, hitting the button.

It was the Admiral himself. "Colonel, I have a special task for you."

"Sir?" Jag asked.

"Our insurgents are having a hard time overrunning their facilities. I need you to take a flight and help in its destruction."

"Acknowledged," Jag said.

"I'm sending you the coordinates now."

Jag double-clicked and pulled away from the hand-to-hand battle. "Green five, two, and ten, come with me," he said.

He received a chorus of acknowledgments, and soon the three TIES peeled away from their individual dogfights to join him. "Form up on me," he instructed. With practiced expertise, the three slid into a diamond formation behind him, Jag taking point.

The flight moved quickly over the treetops of the planet Zadok, a world of little significance to the Remnant except that it was a world taken by the Yuuzhan Vong. As the Vong stronghold came into view Jag shook his head in amazement. It was astounding what they could do with biotechnology. Jag started to order them to arm proton torpedoes, then remembered they weren't armed with any. Jag sighed, knowing that was one part he was going to have to do on his own.

"Flight, fire at thirty-five degrees on my mark. Three, two, one, mark!" Three sets of laserbolts shot out from around Jag, soaring for the same location. Jag fired a proton torpedo a half-second later, hoping the combined firepower would overwhelm the dovin basal. Two of the lasers and Jag's torpedo were swallowed by the gravity wells, but Green Ten's lasers found their mark. A massive chunk of yorik coral was ripped from the side of the building.

Jag was not satisfied. If his torpedo had hit, half the building would be gone. Jag made a slow arc back towards the compound. "Flight, prepare to fire again on my mark. Three, two, one, mark." Jag fired with them this time, but aimed slightly above where he had directed them. This time his torpedo scored the hit, and as he had predicted half the structure crumbled and burst into flames.

Jag dispersed his commandeered flight group then commed the Admiral to report his success. "Wonderful," Pellaeon's voice came loud and clear from the bridge of the _Chimaera_. "The battle's going well up here, too. There's not much more you can do down there, Colonel. Why don't you land and help the ground forces. There just finishing up, but lost Commander Hadarez in the struggle. They could use some guidance."

"Uh," Jag said, not sure what to say, "I'm not really trained in ground duty, sir."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do fine," Pellaeon assured him.

Jag sighed. "Yes, sir." He cut the connection and prepared his craft for landing.

Just as Pellaeon had said, the battle was practically over with when Jag landed. The stormtroopers had been notified of his arrival, and two waited with a ladder as he popped the hood of his craft. He climbed down lightly, adjusting to the unfamiliar gravity. "What's the status?" he asked the shorter trooper.

"Sir, they refuse to surrender under any circumstances. Our only option is to wipe the remainder out."

Jag sighed. He would have much preferred a peaceful surrender, but you take them as they come. "Commence cleanup."

"Yes, sir," the armored troopers snapped a smart salute and marched off, muttering Jag's orders into a comlink. The compound—or what was left of it—had been taken. The remaining Vong were in the woods surrounding it. Jag climbed a pile of coral rubble to survey the surroundings.

It wasn't pretty. But then, war never was. It didn't make the excessiveness of the dead any easier to bear, however. Jag curiously made his way through what was left of the compound before finally deciding whatever was left was worthless. They had destroyed anything of importance.

Jag sighed wearily. They had won Zadok, but at what price? More lives than it was worth. The planet had no military or economic value. It was just a lump of rock hanging in space. And he estimated the Remnant had lost nearly ten thousand lives to buy it. _Talk about overpriced_, Jag thought. They would have been better off saving the manpower for when the Vong moved on a more valuable world. But Pellaeon was unwilling to lose any ground, and such decisions weren't up to Jag. He was just following orders.

The short two days of rest the Admiral granted Jag on their return to Bastion were much needed. But after the first day of catching up on sleep he was ready to do something. The inactivity only reminded him of his separation from Jaina, on which he could not meditate too long without depressing himself. So he hopped a ride with a freighter onto the planet itself, intent on learning more about the Empire than just its military.

It was a bustling planet, a practical urban center compared to Csilla. He enjoyed walking the streets, observing the people. Most of them seemed happy, not under any sort of oppression. Pellaeon was a good man, he decided, besides being a good leader.

He ate lunch in an open air tapcaf, by himself. He didn't mind being alone, but it reminded him again of the fact Jaina was half a galaxy away. He didn't know when he would be able to see her again. He had only had time to send her one message so far either, and that one was hurried. From what he had gleaned of her reply, she was depressed about something. She tried to make it sound as if it was over her dad, but Jag new better. She had resolved herself about that a long time ago. No, something else was bothering his bride, and in his next message he decided he would ask her about it. Whatever it was, he wanted her to know she could rely on him to help.

Next Jag went to the public library. He and his brother Davin had always loved exploring the library on Csilla, reading the different samples of fiction from worlds they would never visit. It revealed a lot about what a culture believed in.

If this was the case, the people of the Imperial Remnant believed in discipline and justice, and an equal balance of power. Jag decided that as a whole they were an admirable people.

As it drew near evening he began to make his way back to the port, where he would flash his military insignia and catch a ride back to the _Chimaera_. But on the way he passed a jewelry store, and a certain item in the window caught his eye. He stopped to peer through the transparisteel, the tiny trinket spellbinding him. Finally he went inside the shop, where he eyed the token more closely.

It was a ring, simple and elegant in its design, beautiful in its tastefulness. It was a smooth silver band, but in the center a small diamond was embedded into its surface. It was so perfectly Jaina that Jag could scarcely believe himself. Just like her, it was smooth and beautiful on the outside, but it was the inside where the diamond was.

It would cost him three months pay. Jag hesitated, wanting it but not sure if she would appreciate his frivolousness. Finally he decided that she was worth it, and as he boarded the freighter that would take him back to his post the ring was tucked protectively in his shirt pocket.

The ride to Csilla was a tense one, and even more depressing than the first. Jaina spoke as little as possible to her fellow Jedi. It was as if just talking to them rubbed salt in her wounds. She wanted time to mourn. Time to mourn the trust of her husband that she was about to destroy.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was doing the right thing for everyone. It was just hard, always being the martyr for everyone else's cause. And this was one thing that she wanted. One thing that she could cling to even in the loneliness of the Chiss government. 

Jag had been her rock through the entire ordeal, even before she had fallen in love with him. She could rely on him to be fair and honest, to do what was right in spite of everything. _Will you understand?_ She thought painfully._ Will you see that I had no choice, that I'm doing this for the galaxy? For our future?_

It was then that Jaina was struck with a realization more shocking than any other. What she had just thought mirrored her father's words almost perfectly. She felt tears gathering in her eyes, understanding for the first time what he had been trying to say. And she had scorned him. Jaina did cry then, burying her face in her hands and weeping, for herself, but mostly for her father, and for Jag. When she couldn't cry anymore she made a promise to herself. She had to live through this, if only to tell Han Solo that she finally understood.

They were traveling in the Chiss light freighter she had been lent, and so gaining clearance to land was easy. She said no goodbyes as she left the ship. She had a job to do, and playing nice to the people who were destroying her inside wasn't part of it.

Jag's office had been untouched since she had been there last. She typed in the access codes with guilty fingers, her heart somewhere around her knees. She flipped on the light as the door slid open for her, then she locked it behind her.

She sat down behind his desk, and for a minute made no move to do anything. She just stretched out with the Force, wrapping herself in his aura that still permeated the room. Knowing she couldn't put it off any longer she then turned on his computer. As she waited for it to upload the military files she wanted she looked around his office. There was a mug still half-full of caf, and lots of datacards. 

Jaina rummaged through them curiously, just looking at the name labels. After the first few she came to one labeled JAINA'S PAPERS. Her curiosity peeked, she slid it into her datapad. It came up with a list of her credentials and recommendations. Jaina smiled, realizing it was a copy of her admissions form to be placed in a squadron. She scrolled down lazily, until it came up with three lists of squadrons.

One was the complete list of all squads in the Ascendancy. The second was the list of one's who had accepted Jaina onto their waiting list. The third were the squads who had denied her. She looked over the list of aceptees. Frowning, she looked at it again. After the third time she looked frantically to the one's who had said no. And there it was, plain as the snow outside.

Spike Squadron.

Jaina wanted to retch. He had actually had the chance to put her on a waiting list, and he had said no. After she had specifically asked him, told him how much it meant to her. He had lied to her.

A spike of pain so acute Jaina thought she couldn't stand it pieced her chest. He had lied to her. Directly to her face. Repeatedly. The irony of the situation was not lost on Jaina, and she laughed without even a hint of humor. The laugh soon turned to a choked sob. Yes, she was about to betray his trust, but for the well-being of the whole galaxy. And she had never even contemplated lying to him about it. She had planned to tell him, the very next moment she saw him.

But this, this was different. There was no logical explanation for his lies, his _rejection_. He just didn't want her. _He's ashamed of me_, she thought dazedly. For a minute she seriously thought she was going to be sick to her stomach. After all they had said. After all they had _done_... 

She did retch then, regurgitating her pain into the waste canister beside his desk. She felt used and betrayed. She had never in her wildest dreams imagined he would lie to her like this. It wasn't the fact he hadn't wanted her on his squadron, though that certainly didn't make her feel good either. It was the fact that he had said he loved her, then perpetrated this kind of deceit. Why had he kept telling her she was on the list when she asked? How many times must have he lied to her face, then turned around and made love to her? _No one should suffer this kind of pain_, Jaina thought as she lay curled on the floor. _I bet this would give the Vong a real treat. _

She didn't lay there long, however. Her despair morphed quickly to bitterness and rage, an anger so deep she thought an actual fire ignited itself in her stomach. She rose onto her knees, feeling for the first time vindicated for the betrayal she was about to commit. She plugged her datapad into his computer, then downloaded the information she needed onto it. She disconnected and turned off everything, leaving the office the way it had been. As she exited the compound she knew deep inside that she would never be the same again. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Jaina looked at the floor, unwilling to answer. Her heart beat so loud she was sure everyone aboard could hear it. Quietly she took the datacard from her pocket and handed it to Luke. Let that be answer enough. Luke Skywalker smiled compassionately. "Thank you, Jaina. I know that was hard on you."

_You'll never know._

Jaina got up and left the hold, leaving the gathering Jedi to stand and wonder. The small bunk in her room was barely big enough for her to curl into a ball. She wrapped her arms around her knees and let out a painful breath, but she didn't cry; couldn't cry. She would have had she been capable, but tears would not find her. Perhaps the pain was greater than tears.

There were nine Jedi in their assault group. Luke, Jaina, Jacen, Anakin, Mara, Kyp Durron, his apprentice Miko Reglia, the Chev woman Tresina Lobi and her apprentice Thrynni Vae. Luke, Mara, Kyp, and Tresina were all Masters, and so they should make for a formidable force, should the need for conflict arise, which Jaina had no doubt it would. Even after the blow she had so recently suffered, Jaina was prepared for the battle ahead. She looked forward to it, even, knowing it would distract her from her own personal problems.

The question that kept circling around in her head was a simple one. How could he have done this to her? She just couldn't see her Jag perpetrating such fraudulence, but the evidence was clear. Perhaps she didn't know him half as well as she thought she did. Perhaps he was just as much of a stranger to her now as he had been that night in the Fantasy. The thought she had been living such a lie for so long was torturous, and so she made a conscious effort to think about something else.

She stretched out to Jacen through the Force, but he gave her a gentle nudge back. He was busy. He would talk to her later. Feeling spurned for the second time in the same day, she touched Anakin. Jacen had always been her confidant, but Anakin was most like her in beliefs and temperament. They had the same love of flying and tinkering, and when she had lived on Coruscant they had spent more time together than Jaina and anyone else.

Anakin responded immediately, and a few moments later the door to her room opened. He gave her a small grin as she sat up on her bunk. "How you holding up?"

"Not so well. But that's not why I called you in here. What planet are we going to?"

"A place called Tiras. It's just far enough into the Unknown Regions to be off our charts, so we had to use the coordinates on the datacard."

"I've never heard of it." 

"Me neither," he said, taking a seat on the bunk across from her. "But that's really not such a surprise. Uncle Luke picked Tiras because the info you gave us says it's less of a military establishment than a place where they grow stuff. There'll still be plenty enough soldiers to put up a fight, though," he added. 

"Hmm," Jaina said. "He's making a mistake wanting to go in with anything but guns blazing. They aren't going to take kindly to us showing up on their doorstep."

"Agreed, but this is his decision, and I'll stick by whatever he says. He's a lot wiser than I'll ever be."

Jaina shook her head in amazement. "When did you grow up on me, Anakin?"

He smiled roguishly. "Probably while you were off making googly eyes at your new husband."

Jaina's face fell, and Anakin knew instantly something was wrong. "Jaina? What did I say?"

Jaina shook her head, and ran her hand over her face and back through her hair. "He lied to me, Anakin."

"Lied to you? About what? How do you know?"

She told him then, her heart collapsing in on itself but still no tears fell. He listened in stunned silence, and sat back in disbelief when she finished. "Are you sure, Jaina? I've never met this guy, but its not like you to make a mistake this big about someone you should know so well."

"I don't see how I can be wrong," she sighed.

"Maybe he has a good excuse, then. You should talk to him before you do anything rash."

"A good excuse for lying to me?"

Anakin gave her one of those looks, a look that she had never expected to get from someone younger than her. It was one of those 'I'm disappointed in you' looks. "Jaina, what about what you just did to him? Isn't there a sound explanation for that?"

Jaina was silent, her mouth pursed at his assessment. "It's not the same. I wasn't going to lie to him about it."

"You think he's going to see what you did as a lesser betrayal? Jaina, a few hours ago you thought he was the greatest thing since the hyperdrive. Do you think he's changed that much? He wouldn't have done this to you without a reason. You owe it to him to hear him out."

Jaina scowled in his direction. Why was everyone so reasonable? Even if what he said made sense, she wasn't ready to forgive Jag for this yet. He had known how much being in his squadron meant to her, and he hadn't even had the courage to tell her he didn't want her there.

Anakin leaned over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard, Jaina. But at least think about what I said before you blow up in his face, okay?"

Jaina just nodded as he got up and left her to her own thoughts.

It had been tough, but Luke had lived up to his legend and convinced the Vong to let them land on Tiras. Jaina wasn't sure what he intended to do once he got there, but she knew what part she was to play.

Luke and Jacen would be the only ones to debark. Through their twin bond Jaina would be able to tell when things got scary, and the rest of their party would move in to help. It wasn't a good plan, in Jaina's opinion, but this whole operation was crazy if you asked her.

Jaina wished them farewell as they debarked, but she was more worried about staying on board with Kyp Durron. He was constantly prodding her for more info on the Vong, and much of it was things she would have to give up against Chiss wishes. She had done what they had asked for the good of the mission, but that was all they were going to get, and she told him so. He only smiled told her what was good for the Jedi was good for the Chiss.

As they sat on the ship, as quiet as possible, Jaina stretched out with the Force and touched her brother. He opened up to her, let her see and hear through him.

_I am here on a peaceful endeavor on behalf of the Jedi Order_, her uncle Luke was saying. They had been greeted at the ramp, but the warriors looked like they were more likely to pummel them than to hear them out.

_We do not want your peace offerings, infidel_, the lead Vong growled in barely intelligible Basic. He was hideous to behold, with tattered lips and a missing nose. One ear had been cut off, and swirling tattoos covered his bald skull.

Luke's calm physiognomy didn't waver. _I was hoping to learn more about your people. Perhaps come to an understanding, avoid war. _

The Vong spat at Luke's feet. Jaina pulled away temporarily, gesturing to her companions in the belly of the Chiss vessel. "I think we need to get ready." They nodded and began stuffing grenades and extra blaster power packs onto their utility belts. Jaina turned back to the conversation.

_—disdain_, the Vong was saying. _Your are nothing but a maggot under my heel. I spit on your ancestors' grave. _

"There's no way Uncle Luke can talk his way out of this one. Come on, let's move."

They hurried to the hatchway, lightsabers in hand but not ignited. Jaina got there just in time to see Luke gesture to the captives working the fields. "—us take them with us, then. What are they to you? You don't need—"

"Silence!" The Vong snapped, letting his amphistaff curl down his arm into his hand, where it straightened into a rigid staff. "You mock me by suggesting you are worthy of a compromise. The Yuuzhan Vong answer only to the gods, and do not _negotiate _with infidels. Prepare to die a death more honorable than you deserve!" He struck at Luke's head, but his green lightsaber was there in plenty of time to meet it. With an expert flick of his wrist the amphistaff went sailing across the field and the Vong commander fell to the ground with a smoking hole in his neck.

It was on then, the rest of the Jedi charging down the ramp in a headlong assault that would have made a band of Wookiees flinch. But instead the Vong met them step for step with a ferocity that stunned the Jedi.

All except Jaina. She had expected this, and instead of hesitating leapt over the heads of her comrades and landed in the thick of the fighting. Three more Vong fell to her blade before her mind had even caught up with her body.

The next twenty minutes or so were a blur of blood and death, a swirling collage of destruction that burned itself into Jaina's memory like an agglomeration of indecipherable nightmares. When she came back to herself she was in the center of their town, a trail of bodies behind her. She was bleeding profusely from a cut to her left hamstring, a wound that made movement especially difficult. She also thought her wrist might be broken, for it was swelled and turning purple. 

Taking a break from her assault, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. Jacen and Anakin could be seen on her left, finishing off a group of their own. She could sense Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara somewhere back near the ship. Tresina and Thrynni were in the fields the captives had been working, and Kyp and Miko—

_Miko_! Miko was hurt, and badly. Jaina could feel his spirit fading, and Kyp's desperation at trying to defend himself and Miko both. She turned to Anakin and Jacen, projecting her thoughts in their direction. _We have to help Kyp and Miko! _

Anakin came running to her side, a terrible gash running across his chest. "Where are they?" he gasped.

"Are you okay?"

He ground his teeth with frustration. "I'm fine! Where are they, Jaina?" Jacen arrived then, and the way he winced she suspected one of his ribs were broken.

"Follow me," she said. She took off at a run, which was especially painful in her condition, and made the wound to her leg bleed even more. Jaina shunted the pain aside. She had endured worse.

As they rounded a bend Jaina could see the fight off to her right. Miko was backed against a wall, _laying _against a wall would be the more proper term she supposed, with Kyp in front of his prone form, swinging his lightsaber in a defensive arc around himself and his apprentice. But the Vong were closing in, and he wouldn't be able to protect them both for much longer.

Before Jaina's mind had even registered what she saw Anakin had blown past her, his purple saber like a spike of lightning in the Tiras dusk. Jaina recovered then, and followed her younger brother's headlong charge, Jacen close behind her.

The three Solo's slid into a defensive line, encircling Kyp and Miko in a protective ring. "Take care of Miko!" Anakin shouted to Kyp. "We'll hold them off."

And there they stood, an impenetrable wall against a sea of enemies. They raised their lightsabers in unison, and Jaina licked her parched lips in anticipation, then beckoned them forward.

The assault was brutal, each Vong desperately wanting to claim a Jedi for their own personal glory. There was no hesitation over pain or dismemberment. The loss of a limb wasn't even effective on them, because they just kept coming back. Jaina found that when she struck out, she needed to strike to kill.

Eventually the tide stemmed as their ranks grew less, and Jaina was able to spare some attention for Kyp and Miko. Kyp had the young man's head propped on his lap, and Jaina could feel the healing energies of the Force swirling in a vortex around him, trying to keep death at bay. "Will he be okay?" she asked.

Kyp looked up into her eyes, his face pained. "I don't think so, Jaina. His life force is so dim I can barely feel him."

Jaina wanted to weep. She hadn't known Miko well, but he was a part of the Jedi family. She would miss him all the same. By then Anakin and Jacen had picked off the last of the Vong warriors, and had turned to their failing companion. Miko had begun to shiver in his death throes, but Kyp ran a hand over his forehead and he stilled. A few moments later he let out a final shutter, and the four Jedi felt his presence leave his body. The body wasn't there long either, though, for it began to shimmer and fade as if it was nothing more than a hologram with a bad connection. And then it faded completely, his body joining the Force and leaving nothing but a pile of close in its wake.

Kyp lowered his head in grief, but no tears fell from his eyes. Still, his sorrow was so powerful it almost overwhelmed Jaina. She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, but made no other move to console him. "Come on, Kyp. Let's find Uncle Luke."

Luke had already known, of course. They all had felt Miko's passing. As the foursome approached the Chiss vessel Jaina thought she had never seen her uncle so grim. When he looked up at Kyp his eyes were full of tears. "Kyp...I'm so sorry."

Kyp waved him off, but didn't reply otherwise. Mara looked desolate, and wouldn't meet anyone's eye. "I'm going to go prep the ship," she muttered.

"Wait," Luke said. "Tresina and Thrynni have found something. A Vong is holding herself up inside the compound. They have a dangerous feeling, and want us to be there when they break in."

"Why don't you go rest in the ship?" Jacen suggested to Kyp. "We can handle it without you."

Kyp slowly shook his head, but still didn't voice his feelings.

"I'm still going to ready the ship for takeoff. Don't take long. I'm sure one of them managed to get a distress call off," Mara said, then walked sadly up the ramp into the transport.

As the adrenaline wore off, Jaina was beginning to feel the full effects of her injuries. She winced as she walked, no matter how hard she tried to keep her face expressionless. She recalled vividly now the slicing sensation as the amphistaff bisected her flesh and muscle, cutting away at the powerful sinew. At the time she hadn't even felt a prick, but now that she had slowed she began to remember everything. All her aches and injuries were now forefront in her thoughts. Jaina was glad of them. They were a good distraction from her afflicted thoughts. She could see her pain mirrored in her brothers faces, and even Uncle Luke seemed under strain, though that could have been accredited to the loss of a young Jedi.

Inside the compound they found Tresina and Thrynni beside a closed portal. "She's in there," Tresina said.

"How do you know?" Kyp asked, the first words he spoke since Miko's death.

"We saw her go in," Thrynni said.

"A warrior?" Jacen asked.

"No," Tresina shook her head. "Something different. She had an odd headdress, and hands with too many fingers."

"Well," Luke said as he hefted his lightsaber, "let's find out, shall we?" he followed through by shoving the business end through the coral flesh, cutting a hole for them to go through.

As they filed in Jaina noticed the unusual Vong, huddled in a corner with a golden orb clutched in one hand. "Who are you?" Luke asked her.

She responded by hissing, then barking something in their strange guttural tongue. 

Thrynni stepped forward bravely. "We only want to know more about—" her plea ended in a gurgling choke as one of the Vong's fingers shot from her many-digited hand and pierced her through the neck, coming all the way trough to the other side.

"Thrynni!" Tresina gasped, catching her apprentice as she hit the ground. The flying appendage then wrenched itself free, the Vong calling it back to her hand. Blood spurted in gouts from the wounded Jedi, sputing like a fountain from the finger-sized hole. Before anyone could do anything else Anakin was there, his lightsaber decapitating the Vong in one quick sweep.

"Anakin!" Jacen gasped.

"What?" Anakin responded. "She killed Thrynni!"

Tresina was a weeping mess on the floor, holding Thrynni's dead body close and speaking in a language Jaina didn't understand. Jaina just turned away, letting her Uncle deal with the distraught Jedi Master. She had too many griefs of her own to be dealing with someone else's. As she left the organic structure she felt the slight release as Thrynni's body too joined the Force.

Jag spooned another bite of the bland stew into his mouth. It was customary soldier rationing, the same thing Jag was used to eating when he was with the Chiss. The fact that it was familiar made it no less appetizing. He ate it anyway, knowing it was the best way to keep his nutrition up. 

As he took another bite he noticed a number of his associates were gathering next the community Holonet station. Something of interest had happened, Jag guessed, something big to cause such a ruckus in the pilots. He really had no desire to know what it was. Most news that made itself this way was from the Republic, and held little curiosity for him.

He continued to eat. Silently he evaluated the improvement of his officers, reminding himself of the weak points of their defense. Those were the ones he needed to work on in their next session. Perhaps he could—

"Jag!" 

Jag turned, looking to the excited face of Commander Eliab. "Yeah?"

"Come look at the news! The Jedi have joined the war."

Jag frowned. "The Jedi? Aren't they with the Republic?" he asked, knowing very well what the answer was.

Eliab shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. But I do know that they're running a report on the Holonet that the Jedi just overthrew the Yuuzhan Vong base on Tiras. Single-handed! No fleet or anything. Can you believe it?"

Jag had stopped listening at the mention of Tiras. _Chiss_-controlled Tiras. Jag shook his head to clear the confusion. "Tiras?"

"Yes, block-head, Tiras! Were you listening to anything I just said? Come on, come see for yourself," he waved Jag towards the giant holoprojector. A bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, Jag got up and moved towards the crowd of officers. He stood in the back, but could clearly see and hear the newscaster. The report rolled by again, telling how a distress call had come through from the Tiras system, requesting aid in transporting recovered slaves. When help arrived they found the system devoid of Vong inhabitation. They had been decimated, and all that was left were the slaves. They all had been freed of their binding implants, and when questioned had claimed Jedi had freed them.

"Isn't it great, Jag? If the Jedi are that effective against the Vong and they've decided to help, we might actually be able to win this war!" Eliab was saying.

Jag wasn't listening, a terrible dread overcoming all other emotions. How would the Jedi know about Tiras? How would they have even gotten the information to find it? There was only one answer.

Jaina. 

Jag felt a deep anger seethe through him, one like he had never known before. He should have known she would do something foolish like this. She just couldn't help herself, could she? She had to get involved. Had to be in the middle of it. And to make matters worse, she had to bring a whole troupe of Jedi along with her. He also wasn't ignorant to the fact that the only place she could have gotten that information from was his personal computer. She had tampered with high-level security files, stolen them from him. She had taken advantage of the trust he had placed in her.

But never again. He wouldn't let her have the chance.

Jag turned from the holo, feeling as if someone had removed his heart from his chest. How could she do this? How could she be so careless with his feelings, take such advantage of his love? Never had he expected such a betrayal as this. The shock of it almost outweighed his pain, his anger.

But Jag had lost two siblings, been deprived of a childhood since the age of nine, and been sold into a political alliance like a slave to the Ruling Families' will. He had endured enough heartbreak to deal with it rationally, to not let it control him. He moved with purposeful strides as marched to the Admiral's office, and no one who saw him would have believed he had just suffered the greatest heartbreak of his life.

"I don't understand," Pellaeon said. "You want to leave? Now? When we were just beginning to make progress?"

Jag kept his eyes focused on a point above the Admiral's head. "A...personal need has just been brought to my attention. A family emergency of sorts. One that only I can rectify. I am sorry, Admiral. I have enjoyed my time here, and I promise to return as soon as the situation has been mended."

Pellaeon shook his head. "Colonel, isn't there some other way? I really don't think we can spare you."

Jag breathed in a ragged breath through his clenched teeth. Another reason for him to be furious at her. "I am sorry. Truly. I cannot be spared from my duties in the Ascendancy at this time. I promise to return with due haste."

Pellaeon tapped his fingers nervously on his desk. "When do you think you will be back?" 

Jag mentally tallied the days in his head. He expected Jaina to stop on Csilla on her way back to Coruscant, and if he could catch her there it would cut the time considerably. But if he had to venture all the way to Coruscant to find her...

"Anywhere from one to three weeks," he stated finally. "Possibly longer.' 

Pellaeon let a hiss escape through his teeth. "I will not pretend I am okay with this. Whatever it is cannot be as pressing as the situation we are in here. But if you feel you must go I cannot stop you. Only wish you a safe and speedy return."

Jag sighed defeatedly. Leaving this place was harder than he had expected. He had clicked with so many of the other officers. He felt as if he belonged. "Thank you, Admiral." He looked Pellaeon in the eye then, and extended his hand in a very human-like farewell. "It's been an honor serving with you."

"And you," Pellaeon said, taking the hand. Jag shook it for a moment, then turned and marched out of the office. He had a wife to find. What he was going to do with her when he found her, he wasn't sure. But it wasn't going to be pretty.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Jaina had finally convinced them that the best course of action was to let her remain on Csilla. Uncle Luke and Jacen had been loath to leave her, especially when there was no reason why she couldn't stay with them a while longer. Anakin, however, who knew her predicament, supported her decision to stay. She knew that this would be the first place Jag would go when he realized what had happened, and the last thing she wanted was to appear as if she was hiding. She would face his judgment bravely, and then let him defend his own actions. This wasn't a situation that needed to be avoided.

She checked on their apartment first, and found that it was untampered with, as was expected. She hated the feel of the place now even more than she had in the beginning. It was no longer alien, but rather too familiar. Filled with too much pain.

Unable to stay for long, she packed all her personal items quickly. She knew that after Jag came, things could never be the way they had once been. And so she would say her piece, hear his, and leave. There was no rule that said they had to live together. She could—and would—remain his wife for the rest of her life, but she would do it from the New Republic. She would accept the position offered to her by Rogue Squadron, and then she would just be Jaina Solo again, pilot and Jedi.

When everything of value to her had been packed, she sat and tried to determine what to do while she waited for him to realize the situation she had put him in. It wouldn't be long, she was sure. How long, though, she didn't know. If she had had any friends, she would have taken this time to say her goodbyes. But since Touri was dead and Payton had been the one to kill her, Jaina was all alone.

Well, perhaps not entirely.

Syal Antilles Fel had been one of the few to sympathize with Jaina's predicament. She had bought her gowns, given her advice, done anything she could to help Jaina adjust. And in turn Jaina had betrayed her son's trust. It wasn't something she wanted Syal to hear from anyone else. This was something she should explain to her face, tell her the truth of the matter. It wasn't anything that Jaina wanted to do, but she hadn't really done anything she wanted in a very long time. Always the martyr for someone else's cause.

This in mind, she left her packed bags in the apartment, then hailed a hovertaxi to take her to the Fel Estate. It was a windy afternoon, and Jaina had the feeling a storm was brewing, and a big one if her experience with Csillian weather was any indication. It was growing dark earlier than it should have, and by 1800 hours she was sure it would be pitch black.

Soon the magnificent spectacle of the enormous house loomed on the horizon. Jaina felt her heart move into her throat, but she kept her calm. As they pulled into the parking area Jaina paid the driver handsomely, then got out very slowly. It was frigid outside, but she didn't mind. Perhaps it would chill her sudden fever at being put in such a position. She didn't want Syal to hate her. She had been a good friend and mother-in-law, and Jaina would always remember her so. It was not her fault that her son and his wife had so badly ruined their marriage.

The door to the house opened before Jaina ever got there, a smiling Syal in the doorway. "Hurry inside, child, it's cold enough to freeze a wampa out there!" Jaina did so, banging the boot on the steps to clear it of the snow as she went. The door closed quickly behind her as she rushed inside, cutting off the biting wind. Jaina shrugged off her parka, then hung it on the coat rack in the foyer.

"Jaina, what are you doing on Csilla?" Syal was asking. "Jag said in his last message that you were visiting your family on Coruscant."

Jaina nodded. "I was. But...can we go sit down somewhere?"

"Of course," she smiled, but underneath was a layer of suspicion. She could tell something was troubling her daughter-in-law, and wasn't looking forward to hearing about something that could scare the young Jedi. 

Syal led her to the living room, which was richly furnished with a very homey feel that made you want to curl up on the sofa for a nap. Jaina sat reluctantly, her every instinct telling her to run before it was too late. Syal sat across from her in a high-backed chair, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, fingers laced together nervously.

"What's bothering you, Jaina?" 

Jaina sighed, but knew the moment had come. This was just another of the many things she had had to face. "When I went to Gortheba with Jag, I began to understand the enemy the Chiss are now engaged with. The Yuuzhan Vong present a very dangerous and confusing problem to my fellow Jedi. They cannot be felt in the Force. I know you probably can't understand what this means, but it's dire. I didn't go to the Empire with Jag because I needed to go tell my Uncle Luke about it. He called a meeting of the Jedi, and we collectively decided that we needed to take action. But Uncle Luke didn't want to just jump in with the intention of war. He wanted to talk to them first. They needed a place that wasn't too difficult to defeat, somewhere he could find an audience willing to listen." Jaina paused to take a few deep breaths, knowing this was the part she had been dreading. "And because of who I was, they asked me to get this information from Jag."

Syal looked appalled. "They asked you to break into his personal files?"

Jaina looked at the ground. Syal sat back, Jaina's guilt answer enough. A swell of dread closed over her. "Oh, Jaina. You didn't."

Jaina looked back up into her eyes, her own brimming with unshed tears. "I love him, Syal, and not just as a friend. I didn't want to do it. I begged them to find some other way. But there wasn't one. I did it for the good of the Jedi, and for Jag and the Chiss too. Nine Jedi brought down the Vong force as Tiras, Syal. Just nine. It almost killed me to do it, but I had to. I had no other choice."

Syal looked away, disappointment evident on her face. "You said you love him. Does your love of the Jedi outweigh your love for my son?"

Jaina opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a voice behind her. 

"Of course it does. Otherwise she never would have done it."

Jaina spun around to see Jag standing in the doorway. His face was flushed with anger and hurt, the muscles in his arms and chest as tight as a drum. The sight of him made her go weak in the knees and mad enough to fight and angry Gammorrean at the same time. Anger won out in the end.

Jaina stood defiantly. "You are certainly one to talk, Colonel." She refused to call him Jag. It was too personal of a term for someone she apparently knew so little. 

He stepped into the room, hands folded over his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about. And whatever it is, it doesn't matter. How could you have done this to me? I can't believe you. I thought we were actually going somewhere, and then you pull an idiotic stunt like this. How can you ever expect me to trust you again?"

Jaina matched him stride for stride until she was close enough she could almost feel the palpable anger emanating from him. She shoved a finger at his face. "I had no choice," she hissed, enunciating every word carefully.

Jag batted her hand out of his face angrily. "Don't give me that shavit. This was all about you, you and your personal glory. Your need to be in the middle of it. Do you realize how you've jeopardized my position?"

Jaina felt her face flush with fury. "What do you know about why I did that? It had nothing to do with me or what I wanted. I agonized for days over doing that to you."

Jag looked away from her a moment, as if trying to regain some self-control before continuing. "Well you certainly seem to be containing your grief well now," he snapped finally.

Jaina gritted her teeth in frustration. "Only after I found out what you did to me!"

"What did I ever do to you that compares to this?" Jag yelled back.

"You lied to me!"

Jag scoffed at the prospect. "About what?" 

"About putting me in your squadron," she said, letting all her hurt and anger pour into the simple sentence.

Jag paled at her words, as if they were the last thing he had ever expected to some from her mouth. "That's right," Jaina smirked without even a hint of amusement. "I know."

"You went through my _datacards_?" he asked finally, incredulous. "What else have you been snooping through?"

Jaina wanted to smack him. "How dare you! You can't even face up to your own deceit. You have to pretend like it was _me _who did something wrong." 

Jag scowled. "Why I did that seems hardly relevant now." 

Jaina didn't know what to say. How could she have ever thought she loved him, that he could love her? Her own naivety shocked and disgusted her. But she couldn't deny the pain swelling in her breast, the hurt and betrayal that had been stored up inside for so long. She began to cry, but the tears didn't daunt her in her tirade. "How could you have lied to me like that, Jag? After you knew how important it was to me? You _knew_."

He looked away, as if afraid to give her a straight answer. "It was for the best."

"The best for who? For you, so that you wouldn't have to put up with any embarrassment I might cause you?" 

He met her gaze angrily. "That doesn't even compare to what you've done to me. I trusted you with so much, gave you so much. But it seems I was never more than a replacement for your family until you could reunite with them again. It didn't take long to forget you had 'loved' me did it, Jaina?"

His icy stare sent shivers down her spine. "How could you ever think that? I love you Jag! All I ever wanted was to be happy with you!"

"And you accuse _me _of lying? You must have been taking lessons from my mother, because I haven't seen a performance this good since her last holodrama."

Jaina took a step back. It was then she realized there wasn't any use in fighting with him. This was a wound in their relationship that could never be mended. She didn't need to stand there and hear his accusations when he wouldn't even give a plasuible excuse for his own actions. Tears streaming down her face, she went around him, heading for the foyer. He followed.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

She didn't answer, just hurried into her parka. She couldn't wait on a hovertaxi. She would have to borrow Syal's. "So you're just leaving then?" Jag asked. "No excuse, no apology; nothing?"

Jaina turned to look at him for what would probably be the last time. She copied the sight to memory, saving it in her databank of last goodbyes. This was a moment she never wanted to forget. It was the day her heart died. She looked away and opened the door and stepped out into the open air. It was snowing furiously, a storm bigger than any she had endured so far on Csilla. She didn't care; she just had to get out.

Jag stepped into the doorway and watched her scurry down the steps, the icy wind blasting him in the face. "Fine!" he yelled over the din. "Go ahead and run, then!" he turned furiously, slamming the closing mechanism angrily. He proceeded to knock over a vase and flowers in his ire, scattering glass, water and petals everywhere.

He didn't care, just sunk down onto his mother's couch, head in hands. He felt like weeping, something he hadn't done since early childhood. He was furious to be sure, but level-headed enough to know he had let his ire get the best of him. He had lost his cool in a moment when he should have been deathly calm. He also knew his philippic had driven her away.

At the present it was a knowledge that had less effect than it should have. He was still angry enough to feel less guilt than he should, all his other emotions covered in resentment. All except one.

He hadn't known what to make of her accusations. They weren't unjustly spoken, but it was something Jag had rarely thought of. The day she had been in the bacta tank on the _Sanguine _he had realized that her bravery warranted merit. He had left her side temporarily, just long enough to call home and report to his father he wanted Jaina placed on his squadron.

The Baron had been aghast at the suggestion. He had stated simply that placing her in such an elite squadron would be seen as nepotism, and would mar Jag's good reputation. She needed to work her way to a better squadron, he had said. Let her work for it like everyone else. Besides, putting her in Spike Squadron would place her firmly in the front lines of battle. If she was in a lower-ranking squad she could still be happy flying but safely out of harm's way...

At least that was the argument that had persuaded Jag then. After seeing the hurt in her eyes he wasn't so sure he had done the best thing by her. But what did it matter now anyway? She had so brazenly shrugged off his affection in an attempt to gain access to high security files. And now she was gone, so what did it matter?

If it didn't matter, then why did he feel as if he needed to vomit? Like he was slowly dying inside?

"Jag?"

He looked up to see his mother coming from the kitchen. She had left the room as soon as the fight had begun, granting them both privacy. "It got quiet all of a sudden. I had started to worry." The way she looked around, he was sure her worry had not yet abated. "Where's Jaina?" she asked, trying to appear aloof.

"She left," he stated simply with a flick of his hand.

Syal frowned. "She got a hovertaxi here already?"

"She didn't bring a speeder?" 

Syal shook her head.

"She must have taken yours," Jag sighed, not really caring how she had done it, just that she had gone.

"Ours?" Syal squeaked.

"It's okay," Jag said, trying to brush off her concern. "She may have stolen files, but I don't think she's going to steal your speeder."

Syal looked frantic. "No, Jag, you don't understand—"

"Really," Jag interrupted again. "It's fine. I know Dad likes to pamper it, but I'm sure—"

"Jagged Fel!" Syal snapped, drawing him to a halt. "Will you be quiet for one moment and listen to me?" 

Jag gestured exaggeratedly for her to proceed.

"That speeder had a servomotor leak. Cem just hasn't had time to fix it yet. That thing won't make it five kilometers!"

Numbers started to scroll behind Jag's eyes. It was about ten kilometers from the city, and if it broke down half way there she would be stranded in the middle of nowhere in a blizzard the size of which Csilla hadn't seen in years with a dead speeder that wouldn't even provide heat...

Jag stood abruptly, any anger he had formerly had transforming itself rapidly into fear. He ran for the door, grabbed a parka and ran outside into the snow. "Jag!" his mother called from the doorway. He wasn't listening. The only sound was the beating of his heart in his ears. He couldn't let her die.

He couldn't let her die...

Jaina cried as she drove, huge hiccuping sobs escaping her throat until it burned. Tears blurred her vision and streamed down her face, making the already minimal visibility even worse. Every aspect of her screamed in torturous spasms, unable to bear up under the final assault.

She wanted to die.

It wasn't the same hopelessness that had assailed her on her wedding night, the feeling of pointlessness to a life so worthless. Instead it was a white hot agony stabbing repeatedly into her soul, turning her emotional torment into a physical ache. She wanted to die to stop the pain.

Jaina wasn't sure why she loved him, especially now. Even before she had discovered his knavery she realized that it wasn't because of time getting to know each other, months of any sort of flirtation or affection. She had recognized her love for Jag in a moment of fear, fear of losing him. She thought it all chalked up to the theory of soul mates. She wasn't sure if she believed in that, but she knew that there was no other explanation for her love. She had loved him since she had first laid eyes on him, even though she hadn't realized it then. She had been too distracted by her turmoil. It was a spark, she decided finally, an emotion that she couldn't control, couldn't latch on to any certain person. She had no control over it. Just being in the same room with him made her feel like no other man ever had. It was like the moment she had been born the Force had determined how she would feel about him.

Another sob overcame her, but ended in a fit of coughing. She must have let her foot off the throttle when she was coughing, because as she looked back up into the whirling bank of snow it seemed like she was hardly moving. A few moments of applied pressure to her accelerator confirmed that she was, in fact, sitting completely still. And the speeder wouldn't move.

She scanned the controls warily, watching system after system fail. Cursing, she flung open the door and jumped outside. The wind almost flattened her to the ground, and she had to hold on to the side of the speeder to keep from being knocked onto her face. She drug her way to the nose of the craft, then popped the control plate. Frustration gripped her in a vice as she saw the thumb-sized hole the servomotor. Letting a string of expletives that would have shamed even the raunchiest of space pirates fly into the wind, she slammed the panel shut and dragged her way back to the door. It took the Force to help her open it, and the wind shut it so quickly it almost caught her heel as she entered.

Jaina just sat for a minute, staring blankly ahead and pondering the irony of her predicament. Finally she sighed and rammed the heel of her hand into her eyes, crushing away the last of her tears. Wiping away the last vestiges, she crawled into the backseat. She could lay down there, perhaps put herself into a hibernation trance.

But what good would it do? The way the snow was flying, her speeder would be completely engulfed in two hours. There would be no trace of her. She wouldn't even be able to claw her way out, then; the top layer would be frozen over. She could always use her lightsaber to melt her way through, but there was no way she could hike the five to seven kilometers back to Jag's parents' house. Even in the summer months the average temperatures were twenty below. She wasn't geared for such a trek, and even the Force wouldn't sustain her in such conditions. 

Realizing she was out of options, she lay down on the seat and curled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her knees. This wasn't exactly the way she had wanted to die, but you take what you can get. The old Jaina would have fought, would have given everything she had to survive. But the new Jaina, the Jaina who had been ripped asunder by too many forces to pinpoint a specific perpetrator didn't really care. All she could do was wait. Either she would be rescued, or she would freeze to death.

Either way. What did it really matter? 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The snow was like a single wall of flying ice, impossible to see through. Jag drove through instinct, feeling his way along the route he knew so well. He moved at a creeping pace, his lights turned up as high as they would go. He saw no sign of Jaina anywhere.

He berated himself over and over as he crawled the speeder along the snow banks, searching for any sign of his missing wife. He saw none. How could he have been such an idiot? He had let his temper get the best of him, something he hadn't done in years. Not only was it an emotion he had practiced on keeping in check for years, but it had cost him what he held most dear. He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't find her.

At that moment, he didn't care what she had done to him. Of course, it didn't hurt any less or make him any more soft to her dishonesty, but rather made him realize that he would love her the same if she had turned every secret the Chiss held and turned it over to the Vong. Even if it had not been his choice, he had made a commitment to her. Jag wasn't one to go back on his word, and so he was determined to fight to understand why she had done what she had done. He was just as eager to make her understand why he had left her off Spike Squadron's recruiting list.

The wind buffeted his speeder with a particularly strong gust of wind, sending it tilting onto one side. He wrestled with the controls, tugging on the stick until it righted itself. The weather concerned him just as much as anything else. She could survive in normal Csillian weather, but in a storm this size her chances were minimal. He had already been searching for close to an hour and a half. If she had broken down already—which she must have—her speeder would be consumed in the snowdrift soon. If he didn't find her quickly, he might never find her at all.

The wind picked up again, this time in a gale too strong for him to resist. The speeder was flung onto its top. Without repulsors to support it, the speeder flipped in two complete rolls before he could pull it under control. His head spinning and stomach rebelling, Jag slowly pulled the speeder to a stop. Not only were his odds of finding her alive dropping every minute, but the storm was making it impossible to make any progress.

Looking outside the viewport, he saw he was laid against a snowbank, a huge mound in the otherwise flat surface of the Csillian landscape. He started to power the engines back up when he noticed a glint on the side of the drift. A _metallic _glint. He leaned forward, peering out of the transport and into the blizzard.

There it was again. 

Excitement jerking him back to awareness, he flung the door open hastily and practically ran through the storm to the snow hill. He dug in the snow rapidly, then let out a hoot of elation as the hull of his wife's speeder appeared under his gloved fingertips. He swiped franticly, fighting against the flying snow and ice until he had cleared the door. He gripped the frozen handle in both hands, jerking as hard as he could.

It wouldn't budge.

He pulled again, desperate to know what lay on the other side. The handle wouldn't even bend. In a burst of frenzied haste he drew his charric and fired it into the opening mechanism. The snow melted instantly, along with much of the workings of the latch. He grabbed it in both hands then, pulling with all his strength.

It swung open all up and open so suddenly and so violently its hinges creaked with the strain. Inside was a sight Jag wasn't prepared to see.

Jaina was curled in a fetal position in the back seat, arms wrapped in a death grip around her knees. Her face was as white as the snow outside, and her clenched fingers were bluish in hue. She lay too still, her mouth partially opened. Jag's heart fell somewhere around his ankles, and he leapt over the front seat into the back. His hands searched her neck, hunting manicly for her carotid artery. At first there wasn't even a ripple of a pulse; then there was a flicker, a fluttering just below the surface of her skin.

Hope exploded in his chest, and he ran his fingers through her hair thankfully. "Jaina," he whispered, "Jaina, can you hear me?" 

Nothing.

Not giving up, he pulled her into his arms, then stepped out into the chest-high snow. He threw her limp form over his left shoulder, not even bothering to shut the door to the ruined speeder. He trudged through the snow and wind, biting back the pain from the cold and trying to keep balanced with Jaina adding weight to one side and the wind blowing from the other.

Glad he had been in too much of a hurry to close the hatch to his speeder, he laid Jaina gently across the seat, climbed in behind her and shut the door quickly. She still hadn't shown any signs of revival. He knelt in the floor beside her seat, not knowing exactly what he should do. Carefully he ran a hand over her face, tracing the line of her jaw. To his surprise, she moved, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering violently. Anticipation building in his gut, he leaned forward until his lips were a whisper away from her ear. "Jaina," he said, his internal ache making it come out in a groan, "wake up. Please don't leave me. I still need you. I love you."

Her eyes fluttered open, the large brown orbs staring unseeing at the ceiling of the craft. "I'm...so...cold," she shivered, her teeth chattering as she spoke. He wrapped her in his arms, hugging her close. Then he began to pull away, intending on shedding his jacket to wrap her in. But she latched onto his warmth instinctively, her arms snaking inside his parka and around his torso and holding on for dear life. She was so cold against him it was like holding a bar of ice, but he pulled her close anyway, wrapping the folds of his parka around her petite form. She continued to shiver, vibrating in short, violent spasms. He continued to caress hair gently.

"Jaina," he said finally, "we need to get you to a medic." He attempted to ease himself out of her grip as he spoke.

Her hands curled in knot around the back of his shirt, holding him firm. "Don't leave me," she shuddered. "You're so warm."

Although little disappointed that warmth was the only reason she wanted him to stay, he continued to hold her close. He closed his eyes, letting himself luxuriate in her presence. It was all too easy to forget the fight they had had only a few hours prior. But he couldn't let it wait. He didn't want her to come back to her senses and force him to go away before he had a chance to apologize.

"Jaina," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything. For yelling at you, for being so judgmental, but especially for letting myself be influenced into keeping you from what you deserve. I had no right to do that. There's nowhere I'd rather have you, Jaina, than right by my side. I love you. I'm so sorry."

Her only response at first was to bury her face a little deeper against his sternum. Then finally she replied, her voice muffled and weak. "I never meant to hurt you. I thought it was the best way to save everyone. The Jedi can do so much for the war effort if I could just get them to join..." she trailed off in another fit of shivers, her teeth chattering wildly and her body shaking in violent convulsions. Jag held her tight, running his hand over the ridge of her spine comfortingly. It almost seemed ridiculous now to think the woman in his arms could ever do anything selfish, anything untoward.

But she had. And even now that the threat of death loomed over her he couldn't deny or forget the fact. But he could forgive it. "I believe you thought what you were doing was best. And I hope you can believe the same of me."

"I'll never lie..." shiver, teeth chatter, "to you again. Not if it kills me."

Jag smiled. "I won't either. Never. Whatever else happens to us, Jaina, I want to know that I can always count on you, on us."

She looked up at him for the first time, her brown eyes registering his words. "I love you Jag. And from this moment on, there's nothing in this galaxy that's going to take precedence over my relationship with you."

He kissed her.

After finally managing to get Jaina warm enough to free him, Jag powered up the speeder. Its ignition worked, but the craft itself refused to do any more than idle. He pushed the throttle as far as it would go, but that only served to rev the engine. He checked the gear again, saw that it was in place, and tried again. It didn't budge.

Jaina—still much colder and weaker than was safe—sat up and leaned over the front seat. "It's the repulsorlifts," she said softly. "Did you wreck this thing, or something?"

Jag gritted his teeth angrily. "I flipped it."

Even in her state, she managed a giggle. "The infamous Colonel Fel, veteran of two wars, survivor of the Vong incursion, flips a landspeeder on his home planet."

He gave her a mock-chastising look. "Ha ha ha, I'm so amused by your wittiness. So what does flipping this thing have to do with the repulsorlifts?"

She shrugged—or maybe she shivered?—then laid back down in the seat. "I don't know why they aren't working; just that they aren't. I can't sense them functioning like they should."

Jag tapped his fingers on the dash nervously. "It's so cold out there a lot of the snow was iced over. When I rolled it could have been hard enough to knock something loose. Or maybe lodge ice in the fibrillator cap."

"Whatever happened, you can't crawl under this thing without the repulsorlifts working, and you can't fix the repulsorlifts without crawling under it. So I guess we just have to wait."

Jag threw her a look over the seat. He wanted to argue, but there was no argument. Still, it pained him to keep her from medical attention for so long. He told her so. She smiled weakly.

"I can always go into a healing trance, Jag. But right now I need you back here." She stretched out her arms, waiting for him.

He looked at her uncertainly. "Jaina, I don't think this is the best time—"

She laughed lightly, her voice musical. "Jag, I meant I was cold." 

He blushed, but just climbed over the seat and into her awaiting arms. She wormed her way inside his coat, searching for the optimum warmth. She was still far too cold. Jag was worried, but kept his concerns to himself. There was nothing he could do to help her that he wasn't already doing. He could only pray that the storm subsided soon and someone came looking for them.

"I'm hungry."

It wasn't a complaint, Jag thought, but a statement. "Me too. I wish I could hail someone on this comm, but no one answers. They have to be at least be looking by now."

She twirled a lock of hair around her index finger as she spoke. "You don't think they figured no one could have survived that and didn't even bother to search, do you?"

"No. My mother wouldn't let anyone rest until she had seen a body. It took her a two years to actually believe Chak was dead. She wanted to hold out until there was proof, she said."

"What happened to him?" Jaina asked.

Jag sighed heavily. "He never returned from a scouting mission to Oro Banho. Search parties said his clawcraft crashed in a river. They found the remains of the fighter, but never recovered a body. Mother refused to believe he was dead without a body, but finally gave in to reality."

"Reality?" Jaina asked. "How do you know she wasn't right? A mother's instinct is often right, Jag."At the tortured expression on his face, Jaina knew she had said the wrong thing. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to open old wounds. I wasn't thinking."

Jag waved her off, but didn't reply otherwise. He turned back to the viewport, which was covered in snow. "Maybe I should go clear off the ice."

Jaina snorted derisively. Jag looked back to where she lay on the seat. Her mind and spirit had recovered, but her body had not yet adjusted from the harsh conditions it had been exposed to. She was prone to cold spells still, even though the weakness had faded. The lack of food didn't help any. She would need treatment for her overexposure when they were rescued.

"What for? So we can see the white _outside _the speeder?" she snorted derisively. Jag was too lost in thought to think of a proper comeback. Jaina sighed in frustration. "Will you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like if you take your eyes off me for half a second I'll vanish into thin air."

He could only smile. "Maybe that's how I feel."

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. "Jag?"

"Hmm?"

"I need you back here again."

He grinned, crawling back across to lay down beside her, then enfolding her easily in his embrace. "Jag?" she asked again.

"Yes?" he replied, looking down into her upturned face. She grinned wickedly.

"I wasn't talking about being cold." 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"I think I got something," Jag said excitedly as the comm unit emitted a loud staticky hiss. Jaina raised up from the backseat, peering over his shoulder at the unit.

"What is it?" she asked. 

Instead of replying, he hit the switch again. "This is Colonel Jagged Fel of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Repeat, this is Colonel Jagged Fel, in need of assistance."

The otherwise solid hum of static popped and crackled for a few minutes, then went quiet. Jag's jaw muscles tightened in frustration. "Repeat, Colonel Jagged Fel in need of assistance. Is there anyone there?" 

More pops.

"If you can hear me, click twice," Jag said.

Two clicks.

Jaina burst into a smile. Finally, someone had come for them. So Jag had been right; Syal had not let them down. Jaina placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and squeezed gently, the small gesture letting him know the glee bubbling just beneath her calm facade. He reached up and laid a hand over hers. 

"Acknowledged," he spoke into the comm. "Awaiting visual confirmation."

"Visual?" Jaina asked. "We can't see them through the snow. And I doubt they can see us. Will their scanners even pick up through the ice?"

"I don't know," he said as he began to gather their randomly disarrayed garments that had not yet been recovered. "That's why we need to go outside."

Jaina hugged herself at the thought of going back out into the icy tundra. But if it would get them rescued, then she would do as he said. She reached for the door latch, and eventually resorted to kicking it free. Snow poured into the floor of the speeder around them. "How do we get out?"

"We dig," he said simply, and began pushing and shoving the snow aside until there was a hollow beneath the iced over surface. He moved outside the speeder then motioned her to follow. "Your lightsaber," he instructed plainly. She unhooked the blade from her belt and pressed the business end against the frozen ceiling. As she depressed the ignition switch steam erupted from the crystal surface, and hot water poured down onto the ground at their feet. Cracks evolved from the point where her blade met the ice, spreading rapidly outward in long jagged seams until the whole upper surface caved in around them. 

The ice-rocks pelted their head and shoulder, but eventually settled around them. Jag scrambled out from the opening and up onto the sheet above them. He extended his hand to her, offering his help. Jaina, feeling suddenly coddled by his protectiveness, spurned his offer and leapt Force-assisted up onto the ground beside him. The effort took more out of her than she wanted to admit, and so smiled superiorly at him to cover her sudden dizziness. He just shook his head at the futile attempt.

They settled back against the slightly bulging mass of their speeder, Jag pulling her back into his parka to keep her warm. This time she had no objections to his coddling. She leaned gratefully against his solid chest, hoping she wouldn't have to forsake the warmth of the speeder for long. "What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?" she asked to pass the time.

He pondered the question for a while before answering. "That's hard to say, since I'm not leaving you with the medic alone."

"Medic?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"You need treatment for overexposure," he said matter-of-factly.

"What about my healing trances? They took care of all the frost-bite."

"I'm not taking any chances," he stated firmly. "The first thing we're going to do is demand you be taken to a Medcenter."

"So I have no choice in the matter?" she asked, suggesting she felt otherwise.

"Of course. You can go peacefully or you can choose to make me stun you into submission."

Jaina laughed heartily at the proposition. "Don't suppose I'm that easy to capture, Colonel Fel." 

He gave her one of those half-smiles, the one that made her want to smack him and kiss him at the same time. "And don't suppose that I'm so easily put off."

Thoroughly satisfied at their bout, she smiled and leaned back against him. She would rather sit there and banter with him all day long than to laugh with anyone else. In fact, it was _almost _as satisfying as—

The whir of engines sounded suddenly in the distance, and Jaina sat up in anticipation. "Can you hear it?" she asked excitedly.

Jag stood and placed a hand over his eyes, staring into the distance before letting a grim smile overcome his features. "It's a rescue team all right. Come on, we need to be ready for our deliverers." 

"I want out of here," she stated flatly. "I've been spending entirely too much time in a Medcenter lately." 

"I agree," Jag said, stopping his pacing to stand at the foot of her bed. "That's why I want you to stay here until released. No relapses."

Jaina frowned at his concern. "I'm fine Jag. If something was really wrong with me they would have said something by now."

"Jaina," he said, clearly exasperated, "when the test results get back, I'll be more than happy to take you home."

"Well, you certainly don't seem to eager now." It was cheap jibe, and she knew it.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "I want you to stay here so you won't overexert yourself too soon."

Jaina snorted derisively. "I think we've already tested the limits of my stamina, don't you?" Jag blushed slightly, looking away, but at least she had cracked his serious mood. Now she just had to go in for the kill. "Come on, Jag. You're doing that overprotective thing again, the one that got us into this mess. You know I'm okay. Just let me take care of my self for a little while, will you?"

He sighed in defeat, and she knew she had him. "All right," he conceded. "I'm going to go settle some business with my father, then I'll come and check you out."

Jaina smiled lovingly, suddenly the picture of innocence. She reached out and kissed him lightly as he left. "Thank you," she said as he pulled away.

"Just don't make me regret it, okay?"

"Okay."

Jag kept his eyes fixed on a point above his father's head, jaw set, eyes determined. But what was taking the greatest deal of effort was keeping his anger in check. "That's not what I said at all," he rasped finally.

"Then what did you say? Because that's what I heard."

"I said," Jag spoke carefully, "that in the interest of protecting the Ascendancy, as well as myself and her family, Jaina accessed some files in my private computer and used them to benefit the war effort." It had been a concept that Jag himslef had not swallowed easily, so how did he expect his father to? But he still had to try.

"Isn't that what I said?" the Baron rumbled. "She stole high-security files without your permission, then turned them over to New Republic operatives whom we have yet to officially inform about the Yuuzhan Vong."

"They aren't," he spoke with exaggerated calm, "Republic operatives. The Jedi are a completely separate entity from the New Republic. They are her family. She did it to protect them."

"Attacking a Chiss star system that posed no threat to Coruscant was protecting her family? That sounds more like offensive objectives to me, Colonel," Soontir scoffed.

"I am assured that Skywalker's motives were purely in the interest of intelligence gathering. It only turned confrontational after negotiations took a wrong turn." Deciding to be brave, Jag pushed on. "And frankly, I am not seeing the act as quite so deplorable for the Ascendancy as you are insinuating. They freed countless slaves and an enemy-held world, then left it for us to take back, casualty free. I would think that such involvement would be welcome."

"But at what price did they do these things? What are they asking in return?" 

"Nothing," Jag said, unable to keep the acid from his voice. "They act only in the interest of others, in accord with the will of this Force of theirs."

Soontir eyed him suspiciously from behind his massive wooden desk. "Since when do you defend organizations you have no interest in, or, in fact, have never been acquainted with?"

Jag had asked himself the same question. He had forgiven Jaina, but that was due more to the fact that he loved her and trusted she thought she had been doing best than to any understanding of her actions. He put it on the same plane as her accusations against him, supposing that her intentions had been pure, if misguided. And also the fact that she would never do such a thing again. So how was he supposed to justify Jaina to someone else, who didn't have the excuse of love to warrant her actions?

Jag took a deep breath, and in that time search frantically for a response to his father's question. Finally, "I trust Jaina. Explicitly. And so I trust what she has told me. I have no other choice."

Soontir fumed as he stared at his son. "You _trust _her, after what she did?"

"I believe that she did what she thought was best in a tricky situation. I admit I wish she had done differently, but she has apologized, and I forgive her. She will never betray my trust again."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she is my wife. And I love her."

The silence was tense. Jag wasn't sure why he said what he had said, but he was confident it had been the right decision. There was no reason he should hide it. But Soontir hadn't even so much as blinked since Jag had spoken, as if frozen in time. Finally he let out a shuddering breath, and lowered his gaze to the wooden desk. "Well that will make what I am about to say much more difficult. Jag, Jaina is not the only one who behave out of accordance with their orders. You abandoned your post in Imperial Space. You are to return there immediately. But Jaina will not come back with you."

"What?" Jag asked, not sure he understood.

"The Four Families no longer trust her. She is never to set foot back in Chiss space again. When you return, she will not be permitted to return with you."

Jag didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to choose between duty and his family and Jaina? It wasn't a choice he should ever be force to make. "What of the alliance with the Republic?" he managed finally. 

Soontir leaned back in his chair. "It will remain; as will your marriage. But we cannot tolerate her presence on Csilla. I am sorry, Jag."

Jag took in a ragged breath, knowing he should say something, or just leave, but he was grounded in time, fully cognizant of the repercussions of such a decision. And there was no room for appeal. Once a judgment had been laid by the Ruling Families, it was final. There was nothing he could do.

"Do you know what this will do to me?" he hissed finally.

"It was an order laid down to me by my own superiors, not a decision I myself made. You will simply have to deal with it, Jagged."

Jag had recovered himself by then, at least enough to feel something other than numbness. "Or perhaps I won't," he mused aloud icily, then turned and left, knowing he had severely breached protocol. And also wondering what he had meant.

Jaina was already busing herself dressing when Jag arrived back in the Medcenter. She smiled as he entered, pulling on her shirt. "How did it go?"

Jag sat—collapsed, really—in the chair beside her unoccupied bed. "Not well."

She crossed the distance between them in two strides, her face a mask of concern. "What happened, Jag? What did he say?"

As Jag looked into her beautiful face, innocent eyes, he couldn't find it within himself to tell her. It was beyond him, beyond his capability to endure. He couldn't break her heart like that. "I have to return to Imperial Space," he said instead, hoping it was cover enough to fool her, if only temporarily.

She stood, her concern replaced with distress. "Does that mean I have to stay here while you leave again? Because I won't do it. I'm not letting you leave me again." 

For once, Jag was grateful for her stubborn resolve. It made it so much easier on him. He nodded, but slowly enough so as not to appear too eager. "I'm not going to fight you on this one. I want you with me as much as you want to be there." It was the truth. 

She smiled, and kissed him tenderly. Jag held her close, hating the Chiss for doing this to them. He wouldn't let this break them apart, not when he had so recently been reunited with her. He just wouldn't.

"I guess it's convenient at least. You're already packed, anyway, and your stuff would have taken most of the time. It shouldn't take me more than twenty minutes to get all I need."

"That long?" Jaina asked from her seat on the couch in their apartment. Jag threw her a sardonic look over his shoulder. She just smiled. Jag copied the sight to memory, knowing it was the last time they would ever be in this home together.

Their first home.

But they would move past it, find something new, something _theirs_. Just where at, he wasn't sure, but they would overcome.

Jag smiled back, then returned to his packing. As predicted, it took his only slightly less than the time he had predicted to gather everything he valued. He was taking no chances, leaving nothing behind, mainly because he didn't know if he would ever be back. If they turned their back on Jaina, they might as well be turning their backs on him.

"Ready?" she asked, slinging one of his duffel bags over her shoulder. He nodded, sliding his free arm around her waist.

"As I'll ever be," he sighed.

They hurried to the docking bay where Jaina had landed the loaned Chiss freighter, the _Warrior's Grace_. Jag's clawcraft had been docked in its hold, and it had been prepped for takeoff before they ever arrived. All that was left was the preflight, which Jag performed quickly and expertly. They had just received clearance and broken atmosphere when an idea struck Jag. It was worth a shot, at least.

"Jaina," he said casually as she was running the navicomputer for the jump to lightspeed, "what would you say if I didn't want to go to Bastion right away?"

She looked up from the screen and frowned. "Why not?"

He adopted a more serious tone. "You've seen everything about my home and my life, and I know relatively nothing of yours. I want to go to Coruscant, meet your family, see your home."

Jaina raised a skeptical brow. "I thought you were supposed to report directly back to your post."

Jag smiled nonchalantly. "Perhaps I don't always do everything I'm told."

At this Jaina laughed lightly. "Jagged Fel, I do believe you're developing a rebellious streak!"

He feigned mock horror. "Never! I don't see why we can't, you know, just kind of get lost and end up in the New Republic instead."

Jaina laughed hysterically at this, but began to plot the new coordinates anyway. "You know," she commented as she did so, "I'm beginning to think married life might not be so bad after all."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Jag had seen holovids of Corusant, as everyone had, but those did nothing to prepare him for the live show. As the _Warrior's Grace _reverted to realspace, Jag could do nothing but stare. The whole planet was like swirling constellations of light against a matte brown background, and the space around it teemed with ships of all sizes, a dizzying maze of spacelanes. He was riveted to the sight, unable to tear his gaze from the vortex of autofluorescent colors. 

"Impressed?" Jaina asked from the copilot's chair, her voice carrying a palpable air of smugness.

Jag couldn't think of a response that could cover his wonderment. "That's...amazing." He tore his eyes from the planet to look at her. She was grinning at him, pride evident in her eyes.

"I never get tired of it either," she said, turning back to the controls. "Do you mind if I take her in? I can take us to Uncle Luke's personal landing pad. They're waiting for us there."

Under normal circumstances, Jag would have been appalled at the suggestion that he couldn't bring the ship in himself—and he still thought he could, and perfectly—but he would rather just sit back and watch. He moved aside, letting her take over the pilot's couch. She maneuvered the Chiss vessel expertly in and out of the weaving spacelanes, carrying them closer and closer to the Senatorial district. Finally she pulled out into the open, steering the ship towards an empty landing pad. As they settled down Jag looked outside at the three people waiting for them.

The first was a man, a few years younger than Jag's own father. He had shaggy, sandy blonde hair that whipped around his eyes in the wind, and intelligent blue eyes. He was of an average height, and at first glance was anything but imposing. But as Jag studied him further he could almost see the ripples of power exuding from him, and Jag wasn't even Force sensitive. He wore Jedi robes, the cape of which billowed and snapped in the wind. A lightsaber could be seen at his belt.

The boy beside him was not quite as tall, but Jag credited that more to age than genetics. Despite his obvious youth, his face was given a distinctly mature appearance by a dimple in his chin. His hair was dark brown, his eyes and icy blue. He bore a striking resemblance to the man beside him, even though Jag knew he wasn't the boy's father.

The third was taller than the other two, with brown hair and eyes the same color as Jaina's. He his countenance was more boyish, playful than that of his brother, making him seem younger even though there was almost a two year age gap. Despite this, he was evidently the older of the pair, having broad shoulders and a stronger build than the other.

Jaina eased the ship into a smooth landing, then unbuckled quickly and headed for the exit ramp. When Jag caught up with her she had already been ensnared in a hug by her twin, and followed suit with her other brother quickly. Then she moved to her uncle, who hugged her quickly but fiercely. Jag just stood at the top of the ramp, not sure what to do. Jaina turned to him and smiled. She came up the ramp and took his hand, pulling him down on the landing pad and in front of her family. 

"Guys," she addressed her family, "this is Colonel Jagged Fel of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet; my husband. Jag, this is my twin, Jacen, my brother, Anakin, and my uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker." Jag shook hands with each one of them in turn, trying to read them.

Jacen and Anakin both seemed wary and suspicious, but Luke seemed nothing but open and friendly. He greeted Jag with a genuine happiness, his smile broad. "Welcome to Coruscant, Colonel Fel. We've been eager to meet you."

"Call me Jag," he said as he shook his hand. "And I'm happy to meet you all as well."

There was an awkward pause for a few moments, and then Luke broke the silence. "Why don't you all come inside? We'd love to hear about what's happened since Jaina left."

"They seem friendly," Jag commented.

Jaina smiled at him and took his hand. "They'll warm up, don't worry. It'll just take time."

About then the three Jedi came back into the living room, carrying drinks for the five of them. Jaina and Jag gave them their thanks, then sipped gratefully on the refreshment. "So, Jag, Jaina tells me you have your own fighter squadron," Luke commented as he took a seat in a flowform chair across from where the couple sat on the couch. "I was one of the original members of the Rogues, back during the rebellion. But I haven't been in a squad in years."

"I thought you _founded _the Rogues," Anakin said.

"Well, Wedge was really more into it than I was," Luke said modestly.

"Wedge Antilles?" Jag asked suddenly.

Luke nodded. "You know him?"

"No. But he's my uncle."

Shock contorted their features. "Your uncle?" Anakin asked. "How?"

"My mother is Syal Antilles, his sister," Jag explained.

"Does Wedge know this?" Luke asked.

"That Jaina married his nephew? I don't think so. I'm not even sure he knows my mother's alive, let alone has children."

Jaina looked at him in sudden inspiration. "Why don't we go visit him tomorrow? He would love to meet you, wouldn't he Uncle Luke? And Wedge is great." 

Jag looked skeptical. "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, he named one of his daughters Syal, for one," Jacen commented, then took a sip from his drink.

"Oh, come on!" Jaina said, excited at the prospect. "Wedge is terrific, he'll love you!" 

Jag scratched the back of his head nervously. "If you really want to."

"I do," she said, finalizing the decision.

They chatted for a while longer, most of the conversation between Jaina and her brothers and uncle, with Jag listening silently. Finally Luke stood and stretched languidly. "I'm sure you two are ready for a break, after the trip you made. Why don't you show Jag the apartment, Jaina?"

"Okay," she said, rising. Jag followed suit. She led him through the house, quickly outlining the different rooms and the basic layout. But when she had finished he still hadn't seen her room.

"Where's your room? Or are we not staying here?"

Jaina looked anxious. "I would like to stay here, but my room's such a mess. I have speeder parts and tools everywhere. I don't think there'd be room for our stuff."

"It can't be that bad."

She raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to contradict her. "Think so? Come look."

She had been right. Cluttered was a nice word. There were different components to a dozen different machines scattered everywhere, and in between tools were doled out all over. The only clear surface was the bed itself. "Maybe you're right," he conceded. Sliding his arm around her waist, he gave her a sly look. "But staying with your family might have proved a bit awkward anyway."

She blushed at his insinuation, and punched his shoulder playfully. "Watch it, flyboy. You're flying in dangerous territory."

He grinned and pulled her a little closer. "Don't I know it." But as he leaned in for a kiss a voice intruded on their solitude.

"Hey! Did you guys get lost upstairs or something?" Jacen's voice yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

Jaina pulled away angrily, her eyes shooting daggers at the floor where his voice came from. "Just a minute!" She spun towards Jag her face red with ire. "He did that on purpose." 

"What?"

"He sensed it, and he deliberately interrupted. I bet he's laughing his head off downstairs."

Jag just shook his head and steered her towards the staircase. "It's okay. We'll have plenty of privacy later."

They managed to secure a temporary apartment rather easily, and were moved in within an hour. It was simple but comfortable, and would suit them for the short stay quite well. Jag rested on the couch after he finished unpacking, and watched Jaina finish her own. She looked distracted, and Jag decided to ask her about it.

"There's just something I need to do that I'm not looking forward to," she responded flatly.

"What?" he prodded.

"Well," she began slowly, "I need to go visit my dad. I've finally learned how to forgive him, but I'm afraid telling him will be harder than realizing why he did it."

Jag sat up as he listened, resting his elbows on his knees. "He'll be so happy, Jaina, I don't think you have to worry about anything."

"Probably. But what if he acts like he doesn't care, that it doesn't matter what I think?"

"If he felt that way, you would never have forgiven him," Jag told her.

She smiled at him gratefully. "I hope you're right."

"I am. If this is bothering you so badly, why don't you go now? You won't be able to enjoy anything with it hanging over your head like this."

She looked nervous. "Do you think I should?"

He nodded emphatically. "Best to get it over with now, so you can move on."

Jaina grinned wryly. "That's the Chiss in you talking."

"Am I not right?"

"No, you are, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. But, like you said, I shouldn't put off the inevitable. Will you finish unpacking for me?"

Jag stood and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'll take care of everything. You just do what you have to do."

Jaina had to make a conscious effort to keep from fidgeting. It seemed to be an eternity before the door opened, and on the other side stood the man she had come to see. His face lit up with shock as he saw her, and his mouth worked even though no words came out. Jaina managed a small smile.

"Hi, Dad."

He just stared.

"Can I come in?" she prodded nervously.

"Uh, sure," he said, overcoming his lack of speech and moving aside so she could enter. "To, uh, what do I owe the pleasure?"

Jaina stopped and turned to face him. Han Solo, champion of the Rebellion, ex-smuggler, outstanding pilot, stood before her. Her dad. "When I came to see you a few weeks ago, I didn't really want to forgive you. I didn't like what had happened, and I didn't want to hear an excuse. I wanted to blame you for all I've been through."

Han shook his head sadly. "Jaina, I know you think I'm the worst father in the galaxy; and who knows, maybe I am. But—"

"Wait, I'm not finished," Jaina interrupted. He returned to his former silence, and she continued. "Recently, I was faced with a dilemma. I either uphold my duty to the greater good, or my seemingly lesser duty to my husband. I chose the greater good. But I did it as much for him, for our future, as for anything. And yet it tore me apart inside. It wasn't until then that I understood what you and everyone else has been trying to tell me." Tears brimmed in her eyes, but didn't fall. "I understand why you left me, Dad, because I had to make the same choice. And I know you wouldn't have made it unless you loved me enough to let me go." She did cry then, letting the tears stream unhindered and unashamed down her face. They blurred her vision, preventing her from seeing his expression, leaving her to wonder. 

And then she was wrapped in his embrace, his big hands caressing her hair in a soothing manner. She could feel a wetness on the top of her head, and knew he was crying too. "Oh, Jaina," he said softly. "That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And I've had plenty of regrets." He stopped for a moment, voice choked with emotion. "But this moment makes it all worth it."

Jaina couldn't remember the last time she had been held by her father. Most of her paternal memories were linked to Luke, and there had been plenty of times in her early childhood when she had wished and even believed the Jedi Master to be her father. But she knew now that even though she didn't really know him, there was a blood link between them that could never be severed. She was and would forever be the daughter of Han Solo. And she bore the name with pride.

Jaina leaned against the door to the temporary quarters she shared with Jag, not yet ready to go in. She had remained at the Solo residence for a good two hours, catching up and filling in all the gaps in their respective lives. Two hours was hardly enough, but Jaina hoped she would have many more to look forward to. She had taken a good hard look at her past, said her goodbyes, and moved on. It was time to start a new life, one that included everyone important to her. That in mind, Jaina palmed open the door.

Inside was the last thing she had ever expected to see. Jag stood in the center of the main room, dressed in his most formal uniform, pressed and decorated with all his numerous accolades. He gave her a mischievous grin as she stepped inside and the door swooshed shut behind her. "What are you doing?" she managed finally.

"Sit," he said simply.

Jaina, not knowing what else to do, sat.

He came to stand in front of her, thought better of it, and knelt next to her chair. "Jaina," he began, "when we first met, I was anything but in love with you, and love was the last thing on my mind. I never took into account the thought that I might ever want anything to do with you in that way."

Jaina smirked sarcastically. "Well, this is real romantic."

He scowled, and she quieted. "Because of our situation, we never got to enjoy dating, flirting, the mystery that everyone else does. We've been deprived. And since then, we've both let each other down in the worst of ways. Our past, our beginning, is not a happy one. And so I bring you to the reason for this whole little monologue: I want to create a new one; a new beginning. A clean slate. I want to forget all the pain and heartache, every time we've stumbled, I want to forget it all. I want to start over with you, Jaina Solo, in hopes that maybe we can do a better job the second time around."

Jaina was speechless, dumbstruck with love at the sincerity and emotion in his voice. He was serious about this. How lucky could she be, to have fallen into such a bad situation and found an diamond underneath it all? Was it even possible to love him any more?

Obviously seeing her at a loss for words, he stood, continuing on where he had left off. "And so, if you will permit me, I would like to begin tonight." He took a moment to collect himself, and suddenly he was much more formal, entreating. He bowed slightly to her, bending at the waist in a stately gesture. She detected the slightest hint of amusement as he rose, a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, but that was all. "I am Colonel Jagged Fel of the Chiss Ascendancy. I was wondering if you would be willing to do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tonight?"

Jaina could barely suppress her laughter, and managed to contain all but a few giggles. Carefully she put on her most serious face. "Well, I don't really know you, do I?"

Jag frowned at her attempted humor, but that made it all the funnier. "Are you going to take this seriously or not?" he asked, momentarily breaking character.

"I'm sorry," she replied truthfully, trying to reign herself back under control. "Can I try again?"

He gestured for her to proceed.

She flashed him a dazzling smile. "I would be delighted, Colonel. Lead the way."

As an act of symbolism as well as sentiment, Jaina wore the same dress she had worn that first night on Csilla, at The Fantasy. The atmosphere really wasn't that different, she mused as she looked around. Minus the Chiss, of course. This time the open-air restaurant was filled with a multitude of different species, and the ocean view from their perch was real. Jaina reveled in the love spilling from them both, wishing it had been this way the first time.

But as he had said, this was their new first time. A clean slate. So—in the context of that evening, anyway—she was still an unmarried teenager, free and independent, on her first date with a young colonel from a different society. Jaina tried to place herself in that frame of mind, forget all that they had done and been through, and just try to act as she would if this was the first time she had ever seen him.

She still found herself overcome with the want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it at times, and she could tell he was in much the same predicament. While they both made a show of their new-found roles, every once and a while they would share a secret glance of private amusement before slipping back into the playful personae.

"So, _Colonel_," Jaina smiled with overdone interest, "tell me about your family."

Jag sat back, a roguish twinkle in his eye. "Well, my mother is Holodrama star, and goes by the stage name Wynssa Starflare. My father is a former Imperial Baron, and now and Assistant Syndic to a Chiss House Phalanx. During the height of the Emperor's reign, he was a new template for thousands of new cloned stormtroopers, and had his own TIE squadron, the celebrated 181st. My eldest brother Chak died several years ago, as well as one of my other brothers, Davin, and a younger sister, Cherith. Living, I have a younger brother, Cem, and a younger sister, Wynssa."

"Well," Jaina said, "that's quite a colorful list."

Jag smiled at her over the food and flickering candlelight. "What about _your _relations?" 

They made for quite a pair, didn't they? Jaina realized. How did two people with such equally mixed up backgrounds end up together?

"Let's see, where to begin," she mused aloud, her voice thick with humor. "I guess I should start with my grandfather. Anakin Skywalker was a Jedi in the Old Republic, but fell to the dark side and helped Emperor Palpatine destroy the Order and bring about the formation of the Empire. He was injured in a battle with his former master, and so survived only by the grace of a mechanical suit of armor. His Sith name was Darth Vader. His two children were hidden from him and separated, but eventually found each other and together brought down the Emperor and restored Anakin to the light. His daughter, Leia Organa Solo, is my mother and Chief of State of the New Republic. Her twin brother Jedi Master Luke Skywalker is my uncle. My father is a former smuggler, who flies around in a broken down old ship with a Wookiee copilot name Chewbacca. I have a twin brother, Jacen, and a younger brother, Anakin, my grandfather's namesake."

"Hmm, I think your list might be just as unique as mine," he smiled.

Jaina couldn't contain her laughter any more. She fell into a fit of giggles, holding her side until it hurt. Eventually they came back to themselves, and continued on with the dinner in the manner they had before.

It was a light-hearted mood that had been absent from their previous relationship. Jaina loved being able to relax with him, to have fun and act their age for once. Such occasions were so rare. And Jaina knew that it would be over soon. The next morning they would wake up with the responsibilities they had temporarily cast aside, but for tonight Jaina was determined to make the most of it.

They walked home slowly, arm in arm, silent. There was no need for words. Jaina could feel innately everything he did, everything he thought. And even if she hadn't been able to read him through the Force, she would have known. It was written all over him.

Jaina was glad that this night had taken place on Coruscant instead of Csilla. It would have been special either way, but they seemed much less conspicuous in the teeming masses of the eternally lit planet. They could be themselves, and Jaina could tell that even Jag felt more at ease here where he wasn't constantly on display. They were anonymous in the multitude, random. No one stared, because everyone there was so individual who could decipher an oddity from the norm?

She found herself wishing this was the way it would always be. Just her and Jag, no interference from others. Even on Coruscant, there were so many who knew them and had expectations for them. They would never be free of the public eye, of the federal demands. They were, essentially, slaves.

But even as she mused on this, it didn't bother her. Tonight was too perfect, too grand for her to feel anything but joy. All other emotions were washed away by her happiness.

As they approached the door to their apartment, Jag began type in the access codes. Jaina pulled his hand away with mock reproof. "Colonel, what are you doing?"

Jag tossed her a puzzled look.

Jaina propped one hand on her hip and raised a questioning eyebrow. "You're not expecting me to sleep with you on the first date, are you?" 

His expression was priceless, one of uncertainty, half-way between laughing at her jest and wondering if she was serious. Jaina laughed aloud in her mirth before placing a kiss on his chin—the highest place she could reach from her petite stature. He smiled and finished opening the door.

Inside they wasted little time, shedding shoes, jackets, and shirts before finally falling in tangled mass on the bed. Jaina grinned against his lips in her anticipation, but it was short-lived. He pulled away, coming to kneel on at the end of the bed and pulling her to sit breathlessly on its edge. "What's wrong?" she asked, short-winded.

He said not a word, but reached inside his pants pocket to pull out a small velvet box. Jaina gasped up its opening. The ring inside was classically beautiful, simple and radiant as its diamond shimmered in the low lights. "Oh, Jag," she breathed. "Where did you get this?"

"Jaina," he asked, ignoring her question, "will you marry me?"

She honestly didn't know what to say. Perhaps he was taking their whole playful charade a little too far. "Jagged Fel," she said, loving reproach in her voice, "I already did."

He shook his head. "Our first wedding wasn't really between us, and you know it. It was a union between two republics, symbolized between us. It meant nothing in the realm of our love. _I_ want to marry _you_. For real. I want to know that if we had a choice, what you would say. So answer me. Will you marry me?"

Jaina sat, dumbfounded. Their play-acting suddenly didn't seem so humorous any more. Carefully she slid off the bed and onto the floor beside him. She took his head in her hands and kissed him powerfully, pouring her emotion into the touch. But she pulled away just as quickly, knowing the kiss would not be answer enough for him, straightforward as he was. "Yes, Jag. I'll marry you."

"Don't act so formal. He's your uncle, for goodness sake," Jaina admonished while ruffling his otherwise perfectly smoothed jacket. 

He frowned, pushing her hands away. "This is who I am. I shouldn't change for him."

Knowing argument was pointless, she turned back around in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. The General's aide ignored them, continuing to type away viciously at her datapad. They sat in the spacious anteroom, awaiting audience with one of the Rebellion's greatest heroes, and and the Republic's greatest fighter pilots. Wedge Antilles was as much Jaina's family as he was Jag's, as far as she was concerned. He was her holdfather, and had babysat her and her brothers while Luke was away on Jedi business numerous times. He was a very old friend of Luke's, all the way back to the Battle of Yavin, if Jaina's memory served her correctly.

The intercom buzzed. The aide listened intently to her headset, then raised her eyes to look at Jaina and Jag. "General Antilles will see you now," she said.

Jaina stood, but pressed Jag back down into his seat. "Let me go first." 

He raised a skeptical brow, but otherwise didn't argue. Jaina passed quickly through the door into the inner office, where the General smiling behind his desk. He stood and came around to the other side to embrace her. "Jaina," he smiled, "how have you been? I mean, since, you know..."

Jaina smiled gratefully. "I'm doing great, Wedge."

"Good!" he beamed, then motioned her to pull up a chair. He went back to sit behind his desk. "So, I admit I'm a little surprised to see you here. I had though from what the media said that you wouldn't be back for some time." 

Jaina shrugged in dismissal. "Just passing through." 

Wedge smiled, not pressing. "I hate that you had to decline that admission into Rogue Squadron. Gavin was looking forward to having you. After the way you decimated those simulators, he thought he was going to have a real ace on his hands."

"Well, I could hardly do otherwise. But that's not why I'm hear. I was wondering, do you have any family still living? Besides Iella and the girls, I mean?"

Wedge looked puzzled. "What do you need to know that for?"

Jaina shrugged again, this time noncommittal. "I'll tell you in a minute."

He sat back in his chair, studying her before he answered. "My sister disappeared some years ago, and my parents died long before that. So, no, I have no one else."

Jaina nodded. "Well, I bring you good news, then. It seems that your sister is alive and well, and raising a family with her husband in the Unknown Regions."

"What?" Wedge gasped. "How do you know that? And her husband, _Soontir_, died. She can't have had a family with him."

Jaina shook her head. "It was all faked, both their deaths. Soontir is an Assistant Syndic in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. Syal and he had six children."

Wedge was speechless. "Why...why didn't she ever tell me?"

"I think it had something to do with security measures. But there's someone here who can explain all this a little better than me. I'm just the delivery girl." Jaina stood and walked to the door that led to the outer office. She motioned for someone to come inside. She moved out of the way, and a tall, handsome young man with black hair and green eyes stepped through the door. A crude scar ran along his forehead and back into his hairline, and a lock of white hair celebrated the mark.

Jaina turned to smile at Wedge. "Wedge, this is Colonel Jagged Fel of the Expansionary Defense Fleet, and my husband. Your nephew." She paused a moment to let this sink in, then turned to Jag. "Jag, this is General Wedge Antilles, you uncle."

Both men barely moved. Finally Wedge stood for the second time and went to embrace his recently discovered family. Jag returned the hug somewhat awkwardly, uncomfortable with the emotion in his uncle's face. "I am so happy to meet you," Wedge said when he pulled away.

"I feel honored to meet the man my mother has spoked so highly of for so long as well," Jag returned.

"Tell me," Wedge asked eagerly, "how is Syal?"

"She is well," Jag said. "I think that—"

His reply was cut off as the door irised open once again, this time unannounced. The woman who stepped inside was none other than Leia Organa Solo. Jaina reeled in shock. What was she _doing _here? She had impressed the importance of keeping her presence a secret so firmly on Han, too...

"Jaina," Leia breathed. "So it is you."

"Hello Mother," Jaina replied rigidly.

"Leia," Wedge inquired, "what are you doing here?"

Leia turned a slightly softer expression on the General. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, Wedge, but I need to speak to my daughter. Privately."

Wedge hesitated for a fraction of a second before acquiescing. "Come on, Jag, let's give them some privacy."

"Jag?" Leia queried.

Jaina took a deep breath. "Mother, this is Jagged Fel. My husband." 

Jag bowed deeply in response, with even more rigidity than usual, if that was possible. Leia formed her lips into a thin line. "Welcome, Colonel Fel."

"Thank you," he said simply, then let Wedge lead him from the room.

"You shouldn't just kick Wedge out of his own office like that," Jaina admonished. 

Leia turned an angry stare on the younger version of herself. "What are you doing here, Young Lady? Do you know how breaking even the most minute part of that contract could effect us? It could ruin everything!"

"I can't belive Dad told on me," Jaina fumed aloud, not paying her mother's rantings any mind.

"He didn't," Leia corrected with no lack of bitterness. "Though I still don't understand why not. Threepio let it slip."

_Stupid droid_, Jaina thought. "Are you here just to hound me? Because it's unnecessary. We're going back today."

"Good. But I'm not done. You shouldn't be here, but it's even worse that you brought him along. The Senate doesn't trust the Chiss, and you bringing him here might suggest you've switched sides and are providing them with information they shouldn't have."

_How do they get off calling this thing an alliance_? "I was never _on _any sides, so its impossible for me to switch," Jaina snapped.

Leia's face turned red with anger. "Are you here because they asked you to come? Are they spying on us?"

"No," Jaina hissed. "They don't want us here any more than you do. We came of our own free will."

Leia took a moment to take this all in before preceding. "I want you to go back to Csilla. Immediately. Patch up any rocky relations, do whatever you can to patch things up. I worked to hard to establish a truce to let you ruin it."

Jaina was mortified. "I'm not your ambassador! And I refuse to play any part in your ridiculous political games. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because if I do you'll pull another stunt like this! If you aren't the perfect little carbon copy of your father..." 

"_Good_," Jaina snarled. "The last thing I want is to be anything like you."

"Now that was uncalled for," Leia said reproachfully.

Jaina snorted in annoyance. "This whole damned business is uncalled for. You know, I don't know why I ever did anything you said. And from now on, I'm not going to. I am my own person, and you're not going to dictate for me any longer." 

"Fine. Be as stubborn as a bantha. But if you're still on Coruscant tomorrow I'll have you deported."

Jaina didn't grace her with a response, but stormed outside and drug Jag out of the building behind her.

"If hate wasn't of the dark side, I would really hate her right now. But I guess I'll have to settle for extreme dislike," Jaina vented as she paced back and forth through their apartment.

Jag made no response. If anything, he seemed more troubled by the outcome of her encounter than she did. Jaina didn't have time to ponder it. She was too enraged.

"The nerve of her! Like I'm scared of being deported. Well, if she thinks I'm intimidated by her, she should see some of the _other _things I've had to face." Jaina stopped her pacing to face him. "But I guess she has her methods. It's the only way she's going to force me back to Csilla."

"You can't go back to Csilla," Jag said softly.

Jaina did a double take. "What?"

He sighed heavily and buried his head in his hands. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to hurt you. They've exiled you, Jaina, for stealing those files. You're never allowed back in Ascendancy Space again."

Jaina didn't know what to say. Slowly she sat down on the bed beside him. "Does this mean I'm...homeless?" she spoked the word with such distaste Jag winced.

"I'm so sorry. But there's nothing I can do when the Four Families make a ruling. I would have fought it, Jaina, but they had already come to a decision before I ever knew anything about it. I'm so sorry."

"Where," she said, fighting back tears, "where will I go? They don't want me there, they don't want me here. What am I supposed to do?"

Jag took both her hands in his. "I'm not abandoning you to this Jaina. Wherever I go, you go. And if that means I never go back to Csilla again, well, so be it."

Jaina's vision clouded over with moisture. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I decided it before I ever told you. And," he hesitated.

"What?" she prodded.

He turned away, then slowly came back to look at her again. "I have an idea. When I went to the Empire, I marveled at how it integrated all the Chiss ideals but made me feel so much more at home because it was made up of my own race. They didn't judge me. They're not the cruel people they were. They're just another group of people in this galaxy trying to survive."

What he was saying finally sunk in. "You want me to join the _Empire_?" Jaina asked, disbelieving. "After my Uncle gave so much to destroy it?"

Jag shook his head. "Luke fought to destroy the Emperor. Now that he is dead, as well as all his warlords, there's nothing barbaric about them. They just have more of a militaristic style. Pallaeon is good man."

Jaina was still skeptical. "I don't know, Jag."

"This is a place where we can both be ourselves, where no one has obligations they want to shove on us. We work of our own free will. We can be happy here. But more important, be can be happy _together_. I know we can make a life with the Remnant, do all things we've always wanted to do. You could even have your own squadron." Jaina's eyes twinkled at the suggestion. Jag smiled. "This is the kind of opportunity we shouldn't pass up. And even if you don't know much about them, can't you trust my judgment enough to believe me when I say that we could be happy there? I wouldn't lie to you Jaina. Please. Will you come with me?" 

Jaina's eyes brimmed with unshed tears, and she reached out to caress his cheek gently. "Do you even have to ask?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

It was cold, the air from the sea whipping the snow in whirling patterns before letting the fat flakes settle onto the moisture saturated sand and rock. The ocean itself was angry, crashing vociferous waves onto the beach, foam lapping at the dunes. The water washed over some of the closer snow-covered sand, its icy temperatures blending with the wintry mix until a thin layer of ice formed in patches, giving parts of the shore a glassy smoothness. Farther away from the waterline the snow accumulated, leaving a fluffy down on the dunes.

Jaina knelt in the sand, scooping up a handful and standing. The snow lay atop the soil, and the combination looked to her much like a the hot chocolate mix her Uncle Lando used to fix, with marshmallows on top. She turned and smiled, extending her hand for examination. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Jag nodded, though not with the zeal she exhibited for the act of nature. "Lovely."

Jaina rolled her eyes and dumped the handful back on the ground, then wiped her hand on her trousers. "It is beautiful, and you know it."

Jag smiled and linked her arm through his, then continued their walk down the beach. "I suppose; I guess it's just because everything pales compared to you."

Jaina laughed and rolled her eyes again, but couldn't stop the blush from rising to her cheeks. "How long have you been waiting for an opportunity to use that one?"

Jag smiled. "Only a few days," he said sardonically. Despite the fact that the comment had been made in jest, Jaina knew he wouldn't have said it if he hadn't meant it. So she leaned a little closer against his side and looped her arm around his waist.

Anmicgra was the newest target of the Yuuzhan Vong invasion. The Vong had arrived on the edge of the system a short two days before, and Jaina and Jag had been sent to scout the planet for strategic areas to station troops. That had been completed quickly, and so the pair had taken advantage of the few short hours before the attack to be alone. Seeing as the rest of their crew—composed primarily of stormtroopers—were unloading weaponry in preparation, Jaina and Jag had slipped away, away to this beach. They probably had less than an hour and a half, but that was all they needed.

They had been with the Remnant for two months now, after being exuberantly accepted into the Navy. Jag's rank had remained the same, and Jaina had been made a lieutenant. Her station, however, was officially unofficial. She—as well as he—wielded power equal to that of a general. Their commands, strategy-wise anyway, were second only to Pellaeon. It was a marvelous setup, one that they could only be grateful for. But they found themselves much busier than they had ever been, planning and training and and simming for sometimes over eighteen hours straight. The remaining hours were mostly spent in exhaustion-induced sleep, leaving little to no time for each other.

Even so, Jaina was happier than she had ever been. She was in the process of forming her own TIE squadron, was fulfilling her Jedi dream by defending the helpless, and most importantly could remain always at Jag's side. She was fulfilled in ways she had never thought possible. Her existence was complete.

Well, almost. She missed her family, mostly because she knew she would never be allowed back on Coruscant. Jag had sent his resignation to the Ascendancy, who had then in turn accused the New Republic of breaking the contract by convincing them to live on Coruscant. Leia had replied that the last time she had seen them the young couple had been returning to Csilla. They weren't in the Republic.

For possibly a full week their whereabouts had been a mystery, until a holojournalist with a tabloid had gotten wind of their presence in the Remnant. They had finally caught a holo of the two on Yaga Minor, and their pictures had been plastered all over newsstands across the galaxy. Jaina could only imagine her mother's face, and the thought of her outrage pleased her as much as anything.

The separation was slightly harder on Jag, even though he pretended it wasn't. His mother had not borne the news well. She had begged him to return before it was to late, and her pleadings had worn heavily on Jag. Jaina felt for him, but she knew her pity was unwanted, so she kept it to herself. He would make peace with it, if he hadn't already. They were still just in the adjustment period.

It was strange, being on their own. Jag hadn't lived with his parents for a few years, but had always lived with the burden of their wishes. They were both free now, taking orders only from Pellaeon. Jaina had found a liking for the aging Imperial. He was fair in his judgments, quick in his decisions, and easy in his forgiveness. He was a good leader, and where his military genius ended his upright morals picked up. Perhaps he wasn't the greatest strategian that ever lived, but his equitable nature made up for the difference. That and the fact that Jaina and Jag were there to help in battle made the scale even more balanced.

The snow picked up, but the wind quieted to where there wasn't a whisper of a sound, only the falling snowflakes. They stopped and just stood in the downpour, up to their ankles in the wetness. Jag wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head lightly. "This reminds me of home."

Jaina felt a pang of guilt, knowing she was the reason for his loss. Even if he had made the choice, it had been her act that had resulted in her exile. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't of had to make the choice in the first place. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be. I would give it up a thousand times over just to be here with you."

She looked up, and his green eyes shimmered in the cold. Or maybe it wasn't the cold...

He captured her in his kiss, dragging her into his embrace. She opened her mouth to him, felt him steal her breath as their tongues engaged in a passionate dance. But the moment was all too short, their solitude rudely interrupted by the insistent beeping of one of their comlinks. They both pulled away hastily, feeling like children caught with their hand in the cookie jar. _These moments just keep getting rarer_, Jaina thought as she fumbled for the small metal cylinder. In the end it was Jag's that was ringing. "Fel," he answered, still breathless from their interlude. 

"Colonel, I was afraid they had lost you," Grand Admiral Pellaeon smirked from the _Chimaera_. "Decided to take a brief respite, did we?"

Jag tossed Jaina glance before replying. "Just checking the outskirts for any noteworthy details, anything we might have missed."

"Of course," Pellaeon said, his voice indicating he knew the truth of the matter very well. "Can I trust that Lieutenant Solo-Fel is accompanying you?"

"She is," Jag said blandly.

"Can I also trust that the two of you will be at the shuttle on schedule?"

Jag pressed his lips into a thin line and double-clicked for confirmation.

"Good, I expected nothing less. I will see you both at the meeting in an hour then."

It wasn't a question. "Yes, Sir," Jag replied stiffly, then clicked off the connection. He gave Jaina an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. We need to get going."

Jaina nodded sadly. _Rarer and rarer_. "Then let's go."

Jaina took a seat at the conference table, sinking gratefully into the plushness. She had enjoyed their brief leisure time, but it had in reality only added to her fatigue. The half-hour or so she would spend in that chair would be greatly appreciated. Jag moved to take a seat beside her, but Pellaeon motioned him down to the farther end. Jaina smiled encouragingly for him to go on, and he went.

That was another of the few drawbacks of their situation. Pellaeon could not have very well taken a Colonel and someone with no military experience and make them generals and justify it. Even though everyone knew it would be in their best interest to heed their advice, not many did it without resentment. To reduce this ill will Pellaeon kept them to their respective stations at such public gatherings.

That really didn't bother Jaina. She didn't have to be recognized. She just wanted to do her job. She watched Jag walk the length of the table, salute the Admiral, and listen intently as he spoke in quiet tones. Curious, she toyed with the idea of increasing her hearing to see what he said, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear every intimate detail all the others in the room said. Besides, Jag would tell her when he returned. 

"Lieutenant," a voice said behind her. Jaina smiled at the sound then turned and extended her hand.

"Commander," she returned.

Elkanah Eliab gestured to a seat beside her. "May I?"

"Of course." Eliab had been a good friend of Jag's, and one of his most spirited students when he had first arrived in the Remnant. He was friendly and amiable, and had gotten along nicely with Jaina as well as Jag. He had been most helpful in instructing her in how to fly a TIE, too. Good enough to beat himself in sims. "So, do you have any inclinations as to how this whole thing is going to play out?"

He shook his head. "If you don't, you can hardly expect me to. But if you're asking who I think will win? I think we _can_, but whether we will is another matter entirely."

Jaina pursed her lips. "We've made definite progress. But we still know so little. Only experience can help us now."

Eliab started to reply, then stopped and thrust his hand out exuberantly as Jag appeared behind her chair. Jag shook it and said, "Eliab, I didn't know you were still on the _Chimaera_. I thought they had sent you off to Bastion to help all those green pilots fresh from the Academy."

Eliab shrugged. "That was before the Vong showed up in system. Said they couldn't spare any cruisers."

"What did the Admiral want?" Jaina interjected as Jag took the seat on her other side. 

"I'll tell you after the battle," he said simply.

Jaina narrowed her eyes. "Why? Everyone's not here yet, we have time—" 

"Jaina," he said, his eyes pleading, "just let Pellaeon tell you in his own time. Please. Besides, I'm not exactly sure what he meant anyway. I would hate to tell you something and it turn out to be wrong."

Jaina wasn't happy with the answer, but held her tongue. If he didn't want to tell her, then she probably didn't want to know anyway.

When everyone was in place, Pellaeon stood, a tacit call for silence. They all quited, and he began without introduction. "The Yuuzhan Vong have been amassing a fleet on the edge of the starsystem for the past three days. The activity has finally ceased, so we know that the siege shall soon commence. Their objectives, no doubt, will be to decimate this armada and to overrun Anmicgra. To lose another system will be disastrous. We cannot and will not lose this battle."

With that said he paused, eyeing each of them in turn. His gaze swept across the crowded room, touching them each. Jaina nodded solemnly as his stare passed over her, acknowledging his look and encouraging his address. She wasn't sure, but he might have nodded oh so imperceptibly in turn. "To do this, our plan of battle will consist of three different facets. Offense, defense, and ground security. Colonel Fel, you will be given charge of TIE squadrons, and their leaders will report directly to you." Jag nodded in acceptance. "Other details will be outlined in the datacards being passed out to you." As he spoke a group of aides moved along both sides of the table, passing out the said datacards. But as they passed they moved over Jaina, giving both Eliab and Jag one but not her. She would have chalked it up to bigotry, but she had encountered none as of yet. She looked at Jag questioningly, and he shrugged then offered to let her read off of his. She waved his offer off and raised her hand into the air, petitioning for the Admiral's attention. He nodded to her, a sign that she should proceed.

"I did not receive a datacard with my orders," she stated simply.

"That is because you will not be taking part in the naval attack. You, Jedi Solo-Fel," he called her Jedi, she knew, to draw attention away from her rank, "will lead our ground forces."

"Ground forces?" she asked, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I'm not credentialed in that area."

"But you have the skills necessary, and as a Jedi could be much more effective there."

Jaina bristled at the remark. "I can fly just as well as I can wield a lightsaber." 

Pellaeon might have smiled slightly, but she couldn't tell. "I am well aware of that fact. But the point, Lieutenant," this time to emphasize her rank was lesser than his own, "is that a Jedi with a lightsaber can take out potentially twice as many enemies as one in a TIE. Your presence on Anmicgra could help us maintain the upper hand there."

Jaina wanted to continue to argue her point, but she felt Jag's hand on her forearm underneath the table, reminding her where she was and _who _she was. So instead she answered with a simple, "Yes, Sir."

One advantage to leading five brigades of stormtroopers was that they took orders unquestioningly. They didn't second guess or worry for their own personal safety. What Jaina said went; no questions. And they were startlingly efficient at what they did.

Precision was key for them, and Jaina reveled in the confidence and exact concentration the men in her drop ship were emitting. They came with the intention of victory. Anything less was unacceptable.

The ship had managed to weave its way through the already commencing battle down to the planet's surface with only a few hits. Had Jaina been piloting the bulky drop ship, she wouldn't have worried. But strapped in the hold with the rest of the ground troops she found herself grinding her teeth at every hit, wincing at the noise of their escorts exploding around them.

She heard the clank as the ship settled to the surface, and she unhooked quickly and pulled open the port side hatch. Stormtoopers were already leaping the two meters to the surface, blasters in hand and firing at anything remotely Vong. Jaina depressed a button on her earpiece. "Commander Abel?"

"Roger, Ground Leader."

"Have your men form a half-circle perimeter around the Vong landing sight. Heavy artillery in the back, except for the grenade launchers; put those up front."

"Roger, Ground Leader. Will I be receiving further orders from you in this manner, or do I proceed as I see fit?"

It would be hard for her to command a battle from her current position, and even harder to delay the attack long enough for the drop ship to carry her to the already forming front lines. Determined, Jaina pressed the earpiece again. "Negative. Give me five minutes. If I'm not there by then, commence bombardment." 

"Roger."

Jaina lept gracefully from the ship's interior, and sunk up to her knees in the mud. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Jaina crouch and then jumped, using the Force to augment her strength and carrying her five meters into the air. She flipped as she soared, rolling her left shoulder to the right. As expected, her left arm caught the branch of a tree, jarring her arm. She ignored the pain and used her momentum to swing under and around the spindly branch. She landed smoothly on the top of the limb, and just sat for a moment, taking in her options.

Deciding the best coarse of action, Jaina stood carefully on the branch, using the Force to increase her equilibrium. Then, slowly at first, she began to run. When she came to the end of a branch she would simply spring to the nearest tree, until she was flying through the treetops, past her struggling troopers, their white armor sullied with mud.

The wind in her face was stinging, but she didn't shy from it or dare to close her eyes. She faced it head on, cutting through the canopy like a lightsaber through flimsiplast. Any non-Forcesensitive couldn't have even attempted such a trek, let alone completed it in under five minutes.

When Jaina dropped finally to the forest floor next to her second, Commander Abel looked at her in bewilderment. "Ground Leader," he snapped a sharp salute.

"At ease," she panted, unable to hide her gasping breaths. Slowly she bent to rest her hands on her knees, letting her head hang in exhaustion. She spoke as she did so. "Fire...fire all heavy weaponry on my mark." 

Abel commed the instructions to the other four brigade leaders making up Jaina's fighting force. Jaina pressed her own earpiece with fatigue, determined to give the final order herself. "Three...two...one...mark."

At her command over five thousand heavy artillery implements sent a fiery barrage of death into the Yuuzhan Vong's debarking ground forces. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Jag did a flyover, and as he passed over the Yuuzhan Vong landing sight he saw an onslaught of light and laserfire pour from the surrounding jungle into the enemy's midst. Vong were blown off their feet in groups, torn asunder by the combined force of so many heavy artillery weapons fired in the same instant. Jag allowed himself a tight smile. 

Such was the work of Jaina Solo-Fel.

If only she could see the destruction she was causing from his angle. He wished she knew how proud he was of her. She had no military training, no formal military instruction whatsoever. And yet she was successfully leading an offensive ground assault on an enemy the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. Sometimes her resourcefulness awed him. Along with all the other qualities about her he adored of course. 

Tearing his mind from the introspection and placing firmly back in the moment, Jag pulled his clawcraft in a tight turn, passing over the perimeter of the kill zone the Vong had created for themselves. As he did so he saw three huge, lumbering creatures with spikes on their backs being offloaded from one of the transports, despite the chaos around them. Experimentally, he fired three short bursts at one of them. As expected, all three were swallowed by gravity wells. He was also met with a bombardment of their own, plasma cannons soaring the distance towards his craft. Jag swerved nimbly out of the way.

Well, this was new. And he was pretty sure it wasn't a good thing. Just one of those could wreak havoc on a city. Jag clicked his comm unit. "TIE Leader to Ground Leader, over."

A few seconds' pause, then, "Ground Leader here. Enjoying the show, Colonel?" Jaina's voice said, mocking but with an edge of fatigue.

"Lovely. But there's a problem about...," Jag checked his scopes, "thirty degrees south. You might want to check it out."

There was another interval, in which the whirring of microbinoculars could be clearly heard. Finally, a low shrill whistle. "What in all nine Corellian hells is that?"

"I have no idea. But it's shielded and equipped with plasma cannons. You need to take them out before they reach your position.

Hesitation. "I'm not sure we have the equipment. If you can't take them out in a clawcraft..."

"Who said I couldn't take them out?" The moment the words left his mouth he knew she was baiting him. And he was powerless against it.

"Well," she said casually, "I just assumed. But if you can, any assistance would be appreciated."

Jag chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek. He would rather be in space, but Jaina needed him here. But did she need him here more than Pallaeon needed him up there? It didn't matter. Jaina was first priority. "Roger, Ground Leader." He started to cut the connection, but was cut off by her softly spoken reply.

"Take care of yourself, Jag."

Jag smiled fondly at the comm. "You just keep yourself alive, I'll take care of me."

"Roger, TIE Leader."

Jag switched frequencies. "Razors Two, Three, and Five, form up on me." 

Three TIES peeled away from the main flight group and executed a perfect maneuver into a diamond formation, Jag taking point. "We need to take out those reptile creatures, One Flight. Fire laser cannons on my mark." Jag armed his own proton torpedo as he spoke. "Three, two, one, _mark_." Three sets of beams shot from their unit, along with one proton torpedo. Unfortunately, the only thing that found its mark was one single laser bolt, which only managed to elicit a painful bellow and a spurt of bluish blood from the creature. Jag cursed softly and pulled the flight around for another pass.

After that and two more such runs he began to realize the futility of their attempt. Four fighters weren't enough to take out a creature of that size. Jag hit the comm again. "Razor Squadron, all fighters report to my coordinates."

There was a chorus of acknowledgments and a round of double-clicks. Jag noted painfully that it was short two however. Already, two casualties. "All fighters, fire on my target at will."

All while dodging return fire, Jag pelted the creature with laserfire, and occasionally alternating to torpedoes. The beast slowed and bellowed at the random shots that managed to overload its dovin basals, but it plodded on towards the Imperial defensive line. Frustrated, Jag instructed his flight to increase their fire. The dovin basals' shielding began to slip, and they gained more and more hits on the beast. Just as Jag thought victory was near one of his pilots disintegrated on his wing.

Jag winced at the loss, but didn't let his despair take him. It wouldn't do anyone any good to grieve right then. He would be remembered later. After their victory.

And a victory it was. The animal let out a final groan of pain before toppling onto its side. It convulsed and moaned in its death throes, but the TIES were unrelenting. They only stopped their attack when its voice silenced and the body stopped moving, the mammoth head tilted at an odd angle. The ground around it was covered in gore and drenched in the beast's blood. It was a terrible sight, the huge belly opened by the continuing affliction. Jag didn't shy from it. It was the view of his victory.

His gaze was torn quickly from the dead threat to one of the others as it roared frenziedly, raising itself onto its back legs before collapsing to the forest floor next to its compatriot. A huge rent could be seen in its armored underbelly. Jag frowned and hit the comm unit. "Who got in the lucky shot?"

"Not us, Colonel," Razor Two replied. 

Jag squinted at the sight and slowly dropped altitude for a better look. Finally he sat back and shook his head. "Razor Squadron, we're going back topside. Ground Leader has this one covered."

Jaina looked up as the screaming clawcraft passed overhead. He would do his best, she knew, but he couldn't do it all. She had to come up with a plan. Her hand fingered the hilt of her lightsaber affectionately, and she smiled. Quickly she turned to Commander Abel. "Commander, give me four of your best platoons." He pulled his comlink to his helmeted face and began to bark orders immediately.

Jaina armed herself as he spoke. She clipped a blaster—traded out from her charric—on each hip, slung a bag of grenades across her shoulder. By then Abel was done. "Company ten is awaiting you, Ground Leader."

"Thank you," she said, and hurried across the soft to turf to where the ranks of troopers awaited her.

"Okay," she breathed. "You all are going to serve one purpose. Keep the Vong warriors occupied so I can get to that...thing." Jaina frowned. It needed a name. "Those ranges. I don't want this to be a suicide mission. I just need them out of my hair. Watch my back, and follow my lead. That's all I ask." Her speech was met with professional silence, a tacit acknowledgment. Jaina nodded curtly. "Good. Then let's go."

She turned and ignited her violet blade. Then she marched out of the cover of the jungle into the open area of the Vong landing zone. It was a sight to be seen, rank after rank of white armor marching in perfect synchronization behind a seemingly unprotected figure, a blazing brand of light held in one hand, tip pointed at the ground. Jaina raised it in confidence, flourishing it in a mock gesture of greeting. It was a signal, and as she did so the first line of stormtroopers dropped to one knee, and it and the next line opened fire. Thud bugs and razor bugs entered the mix. Jaina's lightsaber flitted back and forth like it had a life of its own, clearing a path for her headlong charge. The stormtroopers abandoned their straight files and followed her, firing madly into the Yuuzhan Vong lines. 

Jaina ducked easily under the first amphistaff and gutted its owner, just before she pivoted on her left foot and placed a high kick underneath the chin of another. She let the momentum from her rotation twirl her around as she dropped into a crouch and cut the legs out from under another at the knees. As she stood she realized most of the warriors had abandoned her for the seemingly greater fight of beating back the stormtroopers.

Just how she wanted it.

Wiping the blood that had splattered from her opponent off her face, Jaina jogged towards the rapidly progressing range. She pulled a blaster from its holster and aimed at the few unarmed and disfigured Vong who led it. They were easy pickings, and she was soon running alongside the great beast unhindered.

Above and in front of her Jag and his squadron were slowly but surely destroying the second range. She allowed herself a quick moment of pride and satisfaction, then returned to concentrating on her task. She had watched the handlers touch and even climb the spikes on the creature's back, and so she assumed it would be safe for her.

She assumed.

There was only one way to find out.

Taking the plunge, Jaina grabbed one of the many spikes and swung herself up onto one of the rear haunches. She hung there, suspended for a moment in time, allowing herself a instant of relief that she had not been swallowed by a miniature black hole. Then she pulled her lightsaber off her belt and ignited it. She closed her eyes, envisioned the many lessons in telekinesis she had had in her tutelage as a Jedi apprentice, and flung it.

It twirled in a beautiful arc, finding its target in the unprotected stomach of the animal. She used the Force to jerk, raking the flame across the abdomen and opening it wide. Entrails and blood issued forth along with the painful wail of the beast. It raised onto its back legs, lost balance, and toppled onto its back. Jaina jumped, leaping from her perch and rolling across the ground. She called her lightsaber back to her hand as she did so, but its electric hum was droned away by the tremendous thud as the animal hit the ground.

Jaina just lay in the mud, unignited hilt grasped in one hand. She breathed deeply, looking at the cloud-covered gray sky. It had seemed so much more beautiful earlier, on the beach with her husband. And now it swam with death. 

Slowly she stood and examined her handiwork. It was dying a slow death. Jaina felt a pang of guilt, but quenched it. She had only done what had to be done. She looked to the sky. Jag and his squadron were retreating back into the vacuum. _That is where I should be. _

She shook her head and removed her comlink. "Commander Abel?"

"Roger, Ground Leader."

Jaina wiped the sweat and mud tiredly out of her eyes. "Attack when ready." 

"Understood, Ground Leader."

It was perhaps ten seconds before the forest came alive with white armor as her troops advanced on the enemy line.

Jaina eased into the chair, still sore from the battle. She winced as her muscled cramped and contracted, but did not complain of her discomfort. Jag took a seat beside her, not in as much pain but just as tired. 

Anmicgra had been a tough but outstanding victory, probably the greatest the Empire had accomplished in the war so far. Jaina's ground forces had taken a heavy death toll, but had wiped out the Vong insurgents. Being who they were, the Vong had refused to retreat even under penalty of death, and so it had been little more than a massacre. Jaina had attempted to salvage some of the ships, but they had died before she ever got there. Probably a defense mechanism to prevent just what she had been trying to do.

Pellaeon sat across from the couple, a smile of triumph on his mustachioed lips that seemed to have been pasted there permanently since the end of the battle. "Jagged, Jaina, thank you for forgoing your day off to come see me."

Jaina inclined her head, but let Jag speak for them both. "We could hardly turn down the invitation, Admiral. You've been so go to us since our defection."

Pellaeon's smile grew even broader. "The Empire couldn't have been more pleased to have you. But because of politics I was unable to give you a rank deserving of your skills." His grin became mischievous. "Until now."

Jaina and Jag exchanged a private look. 

"This victory is the excuse I've been waiting for to promote the both of you to a rank were I can better use you. Because you don't have the seniority to lead, I have to keep you here on the _Chimaera_. But if you were generals, I could send you with your own fleet groups to help defend the rest of the Empire, where, by the way, our troops are being decimated and systems are falling without resistance."

Jaina's anxiety spiked. If he sent them with their own fleets, they would be separated. And that was the whole reason they had come to the Empire: to be free and happy together. Jaina wasn't about to let that be torn from them now. She started to speak, but Jag beat her to it.

"We are honored, Admiral, but I would prefer to fly my own fighter, not give orders from the bridge of a Star Destroyer. I'm sure Jaina feels the same."

A bit of Pellaeon's exuberance faded. "But we need you. If you were out on the fringe systems helping with the effort there, we might actually have a chance of keeping the Empire together. The Yuuzhan Vong are ripping us apart. If we don't do so something fast, the Remnant will be broken into a dozen little sub-states, divided by the systems the Vong have already conquered. We can't let that happen." 

"But," Jaina began, "I thought we just had a major victory."

"We did: a political one. I now have the justification to put you in the station you deserve, and the one you will serve the Empire best in. You have to understand. We need you both to be leaders. We can't have you hiding in the background." 

Jaina started speak, but again Jag cut her off. "Where will you be sending us?"

Jaina's head snapped around like she had been slapped. _What is he doing? _She didn't want to be separated from him. She was happy doing what they had been doing. The downside was that it kept them so busy they had little time for each other. And now he wanted to part from her completely? It didn't make any sense.

"Jaina I want to send with the _Roughshod _to the New Republic border. The Vong have set up a base somewhere in the middle of the Remnant, and are striking from that location to the edge of Imperial space. I need you to hunt it down, and destroy it. Jag, I want you to follow the slave trades. They're shipping Imperial citizens to their worldships and implanting them with devices that take control of their will. They then use them against us. We need to rescue as many as possible. Every individual is not only a citizen lost, but one that will be exploited and used to our defeat." 

Jaina didn't know what to say. With that kind of schedule, they would never see each other. What was the point of even coming here?

But Jag didn't seem to notice her agony. He stood and shook pellaeon's hand. "When would you like us to depart?"

"As soon as your ready."

"Thank you," he said, then left, motioning Jaina to follow. Slowly she stood, wondering when her opinion on the matter had been discounted. She followed him, but didn't say anything till they were out of earshot.

"What do you think you're doing? Do you not realize that by accepting this you're basically sentencing us to a life apart?"

Jag spun on her. "No. I'm sentencing us to a _life_. If we don't get rid of the Vong, there will be no future for us, Jaina. We'll be dead, or worse. We have to do everything we can to stop them." He took her by the shoulders, his grip, like his voice, gentle but commanding. "I don't want to leave you. I can't even stand the thought of it. But if parting from you now temporarily will let me spend the rest of my life with you, then I'm willing."

Jaina barely kept herself from bursting into tears. She wanted to tell him so much, explain to him the agony the separation would cause her. But all she could manage was a simple, "I love you."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The starfield was unfamiliar. Jaina wouldn't have recognized her location had she not already known, and somehow that was disconcerting. She and the crew of the _Roughshod_ hung in the deep of space, far from any intelligent life or star system. It was a place she had never been, were very possibly no one had ever been. So much of the galaxy was nothing but the vacuum between planets, almost all of it had never been explored. Only safe passages called space lanes were traveled, and the void outside of them was hardly ever crossed. 

Jaina sat in one of these pockets of emptiness, and it reminded her much of her life. She was isolated, far away from everyone she loved and cared about. She could see them—just like the stars—in the distance, but they were too far off to touch or speak with. It seemed like she had been there an eternity.

"Shall I set coordinates for the next location, General?" Captain Onan asked from a discreet distance behind her. He had stood there for perhaps five minutes waiting for her to notice him before speaking. When it became apparent she was going to make no attempt to find out why he was there, he braved her ire and interrupted her reverie. 

Jaina let out a long, low breath through her nose. This was the fifth set of coordinates they had followed the Vong ship to. And, just like the others, it had turned up empty.

Finally, Jaina replied. "You've managed to pick up their trail?"

"Um, well, an approximate location, General. We cannot be sure it's accurate."

Jaina spun on him. "Is there a planet in it, Captain?"

Onan slowly shook his head. "No, General." 

"Then what is the point? We lost them two jumps ago, Captain. We're wasting time and fuel."

Onan stiffened a little, unhappy with her chastisement. "Then what do you propose we do?"

Jaina let the breach of protocol slide. She may wear the uniform, but she was no Imperial. "Send out scout ships to all the possible destination points. For now, the _Roughshod_ will remain here."

Onan saluted, then spun crisply to go carry out her orders. Jaina went over to her command chair and eased herself into the cushions. If only she could _be_ on one of those recons. She would give anything to be back in a fighter again. Sitting on the bridge of a Star Destroyer was just not her strength. 

So far she had managed to make so progress though. She had tracked many of the Vong active routes, setting up Interdictors and space mines all along the New Republic border. She had also sent out probe ships to thousands of systems, and many of them had sent in live feeds of Yuuzhan Vong traffic. Most of the routes crisscrossed, but she had not yet discovered the central base of operations.

It was only a matter of time.

Jaina's eye was drawn to a technician in one of the side alleys of the bridge. She was hunkered over her screen and conversing animatedly with the officer beside her. "Find something, Lieutenant?"

The woman's head snapped up, and her mouth worked nervously. "Uh, possibly, General Fel."

Jaina slid from her seat and back onto the deck. The only sound was the rhythm of her booted steps as she crossed the distance between them. She stopped over the station, her arms clasped behind her back. It was a posture she had learned from Pellaeon, and at times she gained immense amusement from playing the stern Imperial role. "Well? What is it?"

The woman swallowed. "The scout ship we deployed to Mabscon IV last week; it's showing greater and greater numbers of Vong ships passing through the system." 

"How much greater?" Jaina questioned suspiciously. 

"From ten ships per day to almost a hundred, General." 

Jaina's eyebrows shot up at the figure. "And what does this suggest to you, Lieutenant?"

She fidgeted nervously. "I think it means they're preparing for an offensive, General. A big one."

Jaina nodded. "And what would your professional opinion be as to where this attack would be directed to?"

She breathed deeply, sweat glistening on her forehead. "There has been no change in the size of the attacks on Imperial worlds General, even though the number of enemy craft pouring into Imperial space has increased. Since this suggests there hasn't been any major offensive, or any need for one, I would tentatively guess this strike will be directed at the New Republic."

Jaina's lips formed into a thin line. She had known all this of course, but her purpose had been instead to test the tactician. She inclined her head in acknowledgment of the woman's assessment. "Very astute, Lieutenant. Captain Onan?"

Onan stepped forward. "Yes, General?" 

"Send this woman to the tactical display room. They need insight like hers."

"Yes, General."

Jaina turned then to the officer beside the one she had just promoted. "What is the closest system to Mabscon IV that's not under surveillance?"

The soldier took a moment to scan over the computer screen, then turned back to Jaina. "Zedekiah, General." 

"Captain, you heard the man. Deploy a probe reconnaissance team to Zedekiah."

"All our stealth fighters have been sent out already, General," Onan replied.

_"All of them_?" Jaina hissed.

"I'm afraid so."

Jaina stood and fumed. This was the lead she had been waiting for. And now she was going to miss it, all because all their equipped fighters were already searching. Jaina narrowed her eyes. "What about my fighter?"

"It's still here, General," Onan said carefully.

Jaina fingered the hair she had pulled into a tail at the back nape of her neck. "Have it prepped. I'm taking this one."

The wiry young man looked skeptical, and didn't reply with his customary 'yes, general'. Jaina gave him an appraising look. He was perhaps a year older than Jag, about the same height with the same color hair. He bore no striking resemblance, but the sight of him made her miss Jag even more nonetheless. "Are you questioning me, Captain?"

Onan stiffened. "No, General. What am I to do in your absence?"

"Carry on as normal. If I'm not back in forty-eight hours, take the _Roughshod_ to Bastion."

Onan saluted as Jaina spun on her heel and left to prepare for her flight. Finally, she could get back in a cockpit. Finally, she could feel free again.

The bluish vortex of hyperspace was somehow more welcoming in the cockpit of her TIE. It was equipped with shields and proton torpedoes, unlike the standard TIE models. She would have still proffered an X-wing, but none were to be had in the Remnant. This would suit until she could acquire one.

Jaina fully expected to be met with an entire flotilla in Zedekiah. The point was not to find see how many there were, but where they were going. Jaina was a part of the Remnant, but her heart would always be with the Republic. That was just the way it was. She had grown up there, and that's where her entire family was. If they were in danger, she had to warn them.

The time slowly counted down the minutes, and Jaina missed the presence of an R2 unit. It was lonely in a TIE. It was lonely period.

She missed Jag. Her busy schedule kept her conscious mind occupied most of the time, but underneath he was always there. The ache never went away, the constricting in her chest that made it difficult to breathe. It had been three months.

A whole three months.

So much had past since she had last seen him. A birthday and come and gone, but the celebration was meaningless. How was seventeen any different that sixteen? She felt the same. Empty without him.

In fact, Jaina wasn't even sure where he was. He was busy wrangling up the slave traders, most of whom were from their own galaxy, pirates who would make a profit any way they could. Jaina was so proud of the success he was making, but even in that she wasn't able to share with him. Because of the incessant traveling of his flight group, any message she sent was usually rerouted back to their 'permanent' home on Bastion and never reached him. On a brief respite from her travels Jaina had found every message she had sent him waiting there, as well as several from him. It was a hopeless cause.

The timer hit zero, and Jaina pulled back the lever. She reverted smoothly to realspace, on the edge of the Zedekiah system. She had expected to see ships, but the battle group in front of her exceeded her wildest dreams. Huge Vong frigates, battle ships, coralskippers, ships of all sizes and colors completely cluttered the system with their immenseness. They were everywhere, and the sheer vastness astounded her.

She banked hard to port, hoping fervently the moon whose gravity well she had entered was protecting her from detection. She skimmed over the surface of the moon, her eyes on the flotilla hanging above her. Kriff, it was _huge_. She was sure she had never seen such a gathering of ships before.

Slowly she lowered on repulsorlifts down onto the rough, barren surface of the moon and turned off her engines, powering down. Where could a fleet this size be going? What target could be so important? And more importantly, was there any chance in hell of stopping it?

There was only one way to find out. She brought her systems back on line, but only high enough that she could get the comm unit to function. "Alpha One, this is Stealth One. Come in, Alpha One." A few moments later the comm crackled with the voice of a communications tech on the _Roughshod_.

"This is Alpha One. Are you in need of assistance, Stealth One?"

"Negative. I just need you to get some information for me."

"Roger, Stealth One."

"Go through all Holonet News programs from the last week or so. Is anything big happening within the next few days?" 

"Hold." Jaina waited for an unmeasured time, anxiously tapping her fingers on the craft's control panel. Finally the tech finished his sifting and came back on line. "Only one thing really big, Stealth One. The Chief of State is making a big address on Ithor tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Jaina frowned.

"The anniversary of the destruction of the second Death Star, I believe." 

Jaina snorted. That sounded like Leia, making a big deal out of biggest jewel in her crown of glory. It would also mean all of the most prominent figures in New Republic history would be present in one place. It was the perfect time for an ambush.

"Thank you, Alpha One. I'll be—"

She choked on her words as every Vong ship in the system suddenly jumped to hyperspace. They were gone in an instant, the huge mass vanishing as if it had never been. Jaina breathed deeply as her heart constricted, this time not due to Jag's absence.

It had begun.

"Alpha One, prepare the flight group for hyperspace. Set course for the Ithorian system."

"And you, Stealth One?"

Jaina was already powering up, climbing from the moon's surface and out of its gravity well. Somehow she had to get to Ithor first. "I'll meet you there, Alpha One. Oh, and before you go send a message to the Grand Admiral from me."

"What should it say?"

Jaina considered as she plotted the course through hyperspace. "Tell him I was dealt a thirty and had to discard Moderation to keep the Idiot. Even if it's worthless, it balances out the Evil One and I needed it for an idiot's array. If he's smart, he'll call an out before he loses his whole hand."

There was a puzzled pause. "Stealth One?"

"Just tell him, Alpha One, word for word. He'll understand."_ He is a Corellian, after all. _

"Roger, Stealth One. We'll rendezvous with you at Ithor."

Jaina didn't reply, but pulled back her hyperspace lever, leaving the Zedekiah system in her ion trails.

Grand Admiral Pellaeon was not happy. "What do you mean, 'meaningless'?" 

The ensign shifted from foot to foot uneasily. "It just doesn't make sense, Admiral. Would you like to hear it for yourself?" 

"Of course! You should have brought it to me in the first place."

"I didn't want to trouble you, Admiral—" 

"Why are you still here? Bring me that message!" The ensign scurried off to find a flimsiplast version of the message. Pellaeon had no idea what to make of the whole mess. Instead of reporting in as usual, Jaina had sent him some sort of senseless message, according to his subordinates. It said nothing of her position or where she was going, nor any sign of progress. Just nonsense.

The ensign returned, this time waving a sheet of flimsiplast. Pellaeon snatched it from him, eager to read the report. 

_I was dealt a thirty and had to discard Moderation to keep the Idiot. Even if it's worthless, it balances out the Evil One and I needed it for an idiot's array. If you're smart, you'll call an out before you lose your whole hand. _

Pellaeon scowled. Obviously, it was encoded, and she was using sabaac as a cover. What did it mean? Obviously, discarding Moderation meant she was throwing caution to the wind. But who was the Idiot? Pellaeon cracked a grin. The Republic. Who else?_I was dealt a thirty and had to discard Moderation to keep the Idiot. _So, the Vong had played their hand, and were attacking the New Republic. Jaina was throwing away caution to save them.

That wasn't good._ Even if it's worthless, it balances out the Evil One and I needed it for an idiot's array._ She knows they're worthless, but to stop the Yuuzhan Vong she needed them? What? Pellaeon read it again. Idiot's array. The perfect sabaac, the perfect hand. The perfect hand...the perfect set of cards! A coalition. They couldn't let the New Republic fall, or the Empire and Ascendancy would eventually fall too.

_If you're smart, you'll call an out before you lose your whole hand._ Well that was clear enough. If he was smart, he would follow her lead and 'call an out' from the mutual dislike between the two nations. He would help her.

Pellaeon sighed and handed the flimsiplast back to the ensign, who looked confused. "Thank you," he said simply, his mind already elsewhere. She was right, of course. If she had stumbled across something so important she didn't even take the time to consult him over it, well then it had to be really important. 

The debate was whether or not he had the means or inclination to help defend the New Republic. He certainly would not, except for the fact that if they fell so would his beloved Empire. And they surely would fall without his help. So far they hadn't been attacked by the invaders, and had no experience against them. Experience was all the Empire had. Without them to lead the way, the Republic forces would be massacred.

Pellaeon was a reasonable man. He had long ago given up the dream of ever recovering the former glory of the Empire, but he didn't want to merge with the New Republic. He wanted as little to do with them as possible. But in this situation, did he really have another choice?

"Captain Dayton?" 

"Sir?"

"If you were the Vong, and you wanted to make a quick, decisive, killing strike against the heart of the galaxy, when would you do it?"

The young man was quiet for several tense moments. "Am I to suppose you are speaking of the New Republic, Admiral?"

"You are."

Another strained pause. "Well... Coruscant would be the most obvious choice, Admiral."

"Did I ask for the most obvious choice?" 

"No, Sir."

"Then answer what I did ask."

"I chose Coruscant because the head of the government rests there. Everyone important to them would be gathered in one place where they could squash them all at once. So... the only other time I can think of where that would be true would be the commemoration speech Chief of State Organa Solo will be making tomorrow on Ithor."

"Very good deductive reasoning, Captain. Now send an alert to all Imperial systems. I want two thirds of every battle group to immediately report to Ithor, and be battle ready."

"Two thirds?" the Captain squeaked. "What will happen if the Vong attack us?" 

Pellaeon's lip twitched. "We will cross that spacelane when we come to it. Now set the course for Ithor. I want to be there within the day."

Jag stared at the comm unit in disbelief. _"Two thirds?_ What is the Admiral thinking? Is there no explanation?"

"Negative," the controller from his cruiser replied. "Only a high-level command and a statement that there is no room for debate."

Jag gripped his chin in his fingers in frustration, letting his clawcraft drift unattended for a moment. This was madness. They were leaving the whole sector defenseless. Who would be here is the Vong showed up?

But perhaps that was what Pellaeon was driving at. Maybe the Vong were attacking the New Republic. How would he know that? They had no spies or scouts, only Jag hunting the slave trades and Jaina—

Jaina. That was the answer. Jaina had found something. And if it was a threat to her family, he knew her well enough to know she would desert to protect them. She had even betrayed him once to keep them safe.

How had she convinced Pellaeon to join her though? Unless her fears were founded, Jag knew the Admiral was too sensible to risk the Empire. The threat must be overwhelming. Jag rubbed his eyes fiercely. He had been so looking forward to his field nap after this run, too. He was a general and leader of this task force, but he partook in the hardships just as they did. He almost preferred it that way. But on this occasion, he could have really used the rest. 

Jaina would be there, though. The thought made him hopeful. Perhaps after the battle he would be able to see her, to hold her, to...

"General?"

"Uh, yes?"

"Are we to comply?"

"Those are our orders, aren't they? Razor Squadron and Ebon Squadron will go to Ithor. The _Valorous_ will stay here."

"Understood, General," came the reply. 

Jag relayed their new instructions to his squadron. He wasn't sure what to expect when he got there, but he had no doubt that it would be interesting. Anything to do with Jaina always was. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The green orb of Ithor hung in space outside her canopy, ships orbiting the world that under normal circumstances would have never been there, looking like flitnats against the black backdrop of space. There were no Vong. Yet.

Jaina angled the TIE towards the _Rebel Dream_, her mother's personal flagship. That was where the address would no doubt be made, seeing as visitors were not allowed on the pristine Ithorian surface. It was only a few moments before she was hailed. "Unidentified TIE fighter, state your name, allegiances, and intentions."

Jaina screwed her face at the comm. "This is General Jaina Sol-Fel of the Imperial Remnant. I am here to warn The New Republic of a coming attack from the Yuuzhan Vong, invaders in our galaxy that have been harrying the Remnant for over half a year. They will be here in a matter of hours or less, and you need to prepare quickly. Any assistance I can offer is yours." 

"Please hold," the slightly haughty and more than a little reluctant voice said. The only thing not present was alarm. The next voice that came on was easily identifiable as General Wedge Antilles.

"Jaina?"

Jaina smiled fondly, sweeping her TIE over the hull of the massive Star Destroyer. "Hello, General. I would love to talk with you on a personal note, but everything I told your comm officer is becoming more urgent with every moment. You have to prepare for a _major_ attack, and now!"

"Jaina—"

"General Fel," Jaina corrected.

"I'm afraid," he continued without skipping a beat, "that since your defection, any information you provide us cannot be taken at face value. You are an Imperial representative now, and must go through the proper channels if you want to communicate with New Republic—"

"Damn it, Wedge, I'm trying to save you here! I may have left, but that had nothing to do with me loving the New Republic. Why can't you just listen? If you don't prepare—"

"Please hold."

Jaina slammed her fist against the canopy in frustration. She had risked so much by coming here. She had come to _help_ them. And Pellaeon would be coming. Hopefully he would be coming, at least. But they would have to listen to her when the Vong arrived, wouldn't they?

"General Fel," Wedge's voice came back, "are you in conjunction with the Star Destroyer that has just arrived insystem? It identifies itself as the _Roughshod_."

"That is my flagship. It is here to help me assist in the protection of Ithor."

"I'm sorry, General, but the Chief of State has given explicit orders for all ships not under New Republic authority should be evicted from the system. If you will not go peacefully, we will have to resort to force."

Jaina balked at the words. "What? Listen, all I'm trying to do is help. If you want to be slaughtered when the Vong come because you're too stubborn to accept help, well then you can just go to—"

Jaina's sensors lit up like a Coruscant night as the entire Yuuzhan vong battle fleet jumped into the Ithorian system. She ignored the squawks of panic coming from the New Republic cruisers and pushed herself full throttle towards the rapidly approaching Vong fleet. She hit her comm as she did so. "_Roughshod_, open fire on enemy battle group at will. Our main objective is to protect Ithor. Is that understood?"

There came a chorus of affirmatives, and the heavy guns began to blaze. TIEs issued forth from the hangar bays, streaming in great waves towards the enemy fleet. Jaina pushed her engines for all they were worth, hungry to join the fray. It would take the Republic fleet a long time to come on line, and until then Jaina and the _Roughshod_ where the only thing between the Vong and the planet.

They had no chance.

Suddenly she was surrounded by coralskippers, plasma flying towards her from all sides, pelting her shields and tossing her about like a rag doll. She fired back, but she doubted any of her shots did anything, but it would be hard to miss in the multitude. She was spinning suddenly, as if a giant hand had slapped her fighter and tossed it through the group. Her solar panels clipped other Vong fighters, sending sparks and pieces of metal flying. Her shields were at a dangerously low level and alarms blared at her swimming head.

Finally she pulled it under control, righting herself and searching for a target. She found one, managed to kill it, and moved on to the next. The only thing saving her was her complete surrender to the Force. It guided her hands and instinct, and she moved with purpose and grace. She fired a weaknesses she hadn't even known were there until her target was gone, and she flew with a fluidity absent to most.

Her TIE found a brief relief from the terrible death dance, and she took a moment to gather her wits. The Republic had joined the fight, and between them and the _Roughshod_ the main Yuuzhan Vong cruiser was being hammered. This did little to help the rest of the situation however. It seemed almost hopeless cause. There were more New Republic deaths per second than Jaina's mind could handle. Slowly she extended her awareness, searching for three lifeforms she knew so well.

And there they were. Jacen reacted to her touch first, then Luke and Anakin. They all blossomed with concern, but she allayed their fears, telling them she was just reassuring herself of their presence. Were they joining the fight, she asked. A picture of the _Rebel Dream_ appeared in her mind. Jaina withdrew, having found what she wanted to know.

Suddenly her comm crackled. "General Sol-Fel?" 

Jaina smiled, recognizing the voice immediately. "Grand Admiral! Boy am I glad to hear from you." A quick examination of her scanners showed that he must have brought over half of the entire Imperial fleet with him. "Oh wow. You really came prepared too." 

"It looks like you need it. Permission to assist?" 

Jaina sighed in relief. "I thought you'd never ask." 

The odds were slightly more even now, and Jaina felt a whole new wave of energy. She fought on, firing almost continuously. It wasn't until she was in the midst of one giant Yuuzhan Vong assemblage of coralskippers that she realized she had been herded away from all other allies. She was completely alone in enemy territory, the only target for hundreds of otherwise unoccupied fighters. Jaina slapped the comm.

"This is General Solo-Fel, requesting _immediate_ assistance at the following coordinates." Jaina hit her thrusters desperately, gunning for the nearest hole to open space. Even as she watched it, it clouded over with enemy ships, cutting off her escape route.

"General Fel, assistance will be there momentarily. Just hold on till we get there."

Jaina's heart leapt into her throat, almost enough to make her choke on sudden tears. "Jag! Oh, Force, Jag, you can't come after me. It's hopeless. Stay where you are, I'll make it out somehow—"

"Sorry, General, I can't hear you. You must be cutting out."

Jaina gritted her teeth. "Damn it, Jag, don't do this! I couldn't stand it if—"

"Isn't that what you're always telling me? Don't tell me what I should feel. I'm coming after you, Jaina. Just keep fighting."

Jaina jerked her stick, trying to avoid a plasma cannon blast. It grazed her shields, cutting away at what little protection she had left. Jaina groaned. It would be her luck that she would be dead before Jag even got there, and then he would die too. All for nothing.

A group of coralskippers approached her, trying to cage her in between their ferocious ranks. She juked and jinked frenziedly, scrambling anywhere and everywhere, just trying to avoid their shots. She fired as she flew, but none of them met their mark, so harried was her flight. She spun and twirled like a Twi'lek dancing girl, but it wasn't enough. A teeth jarring shot took out the top half of her left solar panel and decimated the remains of her shields. She wasn't going to make it.

Desperately she looped around behind a skip that was tailing her, hoping to catch it in her sights or at least in a crossfire. To her dismay she was faced instead with the flaming noses of at least a dozen enemy craft. Jaina almost closed her eyes, anticipating the end, but forced herself to face her own death. They fired, giant spheres of magma racing towards her.

They never got there.

Suddenly there was a ship, interposing itself between Jaina and her death. The clawcraft took the full brunt of the attack, twisting itself into hot contorted metal as its shields failed miserably. The claw-like projections that gave the Chiss vessel its name melted completely into nothing but nubs, only the ball cockpit remaining. Jaina realized she was screaming, beating her fists against her viewport in anguish and helplessness. "Jag..." she cried, the pain greater than she had ever thought was humanly possible. With her last vestiges of hope she reached out with the Force, feeling for the lifeforce she knew as well as her own.

And to her utter surprise, she found it.

He wasn't dead. He was oxygen deprived, bruised and broken, fighting for consciousness, but alive. Determination flowered in her gut, and her thumb found the firing switch. She had a protectiveness for him she had never had for her own life, and a ferocity that would have scared a gundark. It didn't stop her that it was hopeless. As long as he lived, she had hope.

An excited, almost elated whoop echoed unexpectedly over her comm. "Get out of here, sweetheart, I got you covered," a cocky voice said. It took Jaina a moment to place it, and then she was overcome with disbelief.

"Dad?"

The flat gray disk of the _Millenium Falcon_ swooped over her, cannons blazing. A deafening Wookiee roar followed over the comm. "You want to stay and chat all day, or do you want to get out of here?" Han asked sarcastically. "Hurry up, I can only hold 'em so long." 

Jaina didn't make him tell her again. She reached out to the Force, gathering all her strength around Jag's injured craft and _pushed_. It was slower than she would have liked, but the remains of his clawcraft moved along with her. With the slight remainder of her power she enveloped Jag himself. He would die of oxygen deprivation if she didn't act quickly. And so she attempted to ease him into a hibernation trance.

Attempted. He would have none of it. He obviously didn't know what she was doing, and thought he was dying. And so he fought her efforts. Frustrated, Jaina relinquished her gentleness and forced the hibernation on him. It pained her to do so, but she had no other choice. But this in itself presented another problem. Since he was fighting it, and because he wasn't Force-sensitive, the hibernation would probably last less than two minutes before he would start to wake up on his own.

And so it went for a time immeasurable, Jaina dividing her attention between flying her injured TIE, keeping Jag in the trance, and pulling the vestiges of his ship along with her. Her strength flagged quickly, and she knew it was a maneuver she wouldn't be able to hold forever. Not only this, but the tension of the fight her father was engaged in was rapidly increasing. She could feel the desperation, but there was nothing she could do about. Jag was her priority. 

Abruptly her remaining abilities fled, the power she had been exerting over Jag and his ship gone. She had none left. Jaina felt a wellspring within her build in pressure. She couldn't let him die like this. No, no she wouldn't let him die!

And then there was a touch on her mind. Not just one, but three. Jacen and Anakin took hold of Jag's craft, using their combined strength to pull him along beside her. Luke held Jag himself, sending healing waves over his injured body and easing him with a practiced ease more deeply into the hibernation trance. He touched Jaina herself again briefly, seeming to say, _Go ahead. We've got it covered_.

Jaina found herself at the verge of tears at her relief, and she poured the emotion into the Force. She refocused, trusting Jag to her family's capable hands and centering her attention on flying defensively. She shot at anything that came too near, but most of the Vong had shifted their attention to the more appetizing target of the _Millenium Falcon_.

_Dad!_ Jaina's heart shattered as she suddenly felt the bright star that was her father suddenly extinguish. At the same time her viewport went dark as the iconized Corellian freighter exploded in a brilliant fireball. Jaina choked on her sobs, the loss hitting her much harder than it should have, considering how little she knew of him.

But that was just it. Jaina had only so recently forgiven him, opened herself up to a relationship with the infamous smuggler-turned hero. And now the chance was gone. She would never know him like she should, would never learn all things about him a daughter should know about her father. The option was gone.

She felt Jacen and Anakin's hold falter, but Luke staunchly commanded them to refocus, even though Jaina could sense his own gireved pain right underneath the calm facade. But above all these rang the pure torment of someone with a raw but powerful Force-connection; the agony of Leia Organa Solo. 

Jaina—tears cascading down her cheeks—forced the thought from her mind. He was gone, and there was nothing she could do about that. She had to give all her energy to Jag. He was still alive, still needed her. She couldn't give up on him now. That would only lessen the greatness of her father's sacrifice.

She continued to weave through the battle until she reached the _Roughshod_. The tractor beam pulled them in, and Luke, Jacen, and Anakin let their hold on him go. They docked in the hangar bay, and Jaina didn't take the time to power down or even wait for a ladder. She dragged her exhausted body from the cockpit and jumped to the ground. Sadly she had overestimated her own fortitude, and her knees buckled under the fall. Fighting against the nausea in her gut, Jaina dragged herself to her feet and managed a stumbling walk towards the remains of Jag's clawcraft. It was already being swarmed by medics, and his limp but breathing body was being carefully hauled out of the massacred wreck of his fighter.

Jaina made it far enough to touch her hand to his before her eyes rolled back in her head and consciousness slipped from her grasp.

Grand Admiral Pellaeon watched with mixture of pity and thankfulness. The scene inside the glass-paneled room was touching and depressing, and he wasn't sure which was more dominant. Jaina Solo-Fel sat by the edge of her husband's bed, his hand clasped firmly in her own. She stared blankly at his face, appearing as if the ability of thought eluded her.

The Emdee droid had proclaimed the former Chiss colonel to be stable but in a temporary comatose state due mostly to the hibernation imposed on his. He should awake within the next two or three days, and recover would be quick. Pellaeon was just thankful that he was alive. That they were both alive.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped inside. Jaina didn't even look up. "General," he said softly. She turned red-rimmed eyes in his direction, a hollow look to her pale face. She didn't salute or offer a greeting, just nodded. Pellaeon let the breech in protocol slide. "How are you faring?"

She shook her head and looked at the floor. "I can't help but thinking it was my fault. He did this for me, because of my decisions. And now I'll never get to tell him thank you." Her eyes filled with tears, but didn't fall.

Pellaeon shook his head. "I only met Han Solo a few times, but I could tell he was an honorable man. And that he loved his children. It was his sacrifice to make, and I am sure he did it gladly."

Jaina said nothing.

"Well," he continued, "I'm granting you the next week as leave to recover and help Jag recover. I hope you take that time to come to terms with all of this."

"Yes, Sir," she mumbled. Knowing he would get nothing further from her, the Imperial Grand Admiral turned from his two most valuable officers and left.

Jaina turned back to Jag. He was covered in bacta patches and had spent the last few hours with an oxygen tube ran down his throat, but now he breathed on his own, if a little but shakily. Jaina had taken it upon herself to make sure his recovery was sure and swift, and had sat constantly by his bedside, sending him soothing and healing thoughts since she had awoken in the med ward herself.

The battle at Ithor had been lost. After Han's death Leia had collapsed, and ordered all Republic fighters to retreat back to Coruscant. With no other alternative, Pellaeon had pulled back to Yaga Minor. It was the final twist in the vibroblade wedged in Jaina's gut.

The ache left by her father's lost was almost unbearable. It consumed every thought not already occupied by concern for Jag until she thought she couldn't bear the strain. There was so much she would never know. What was his favorite food? What had his childhood been like? Did he ever regret leaving the smuggler's life?

There was too much. All these questions coupled with her nagging worry for Jag's flagging health made for a very nervous and fidgety Jaina. She was restless, aching to do something, anything, to get her troubles off her mind. But she had responsibilities. She had to make sure Jag recuperated.

Despite the absolute knowledge that she was being unreasonable, Jaina couldn't help but resent him. She was angry, angry that he had placed himself in danger for her sake after she had explicitly warned him against it. And now he was suffering for it.

Not only that, her father had died because of it. She didn't blame Jag, per say, but rather had a bitterness over the whole situation. It was a weakness she needed to overcome before he awoke. He would need her love and understanding. And more than that, Jaina was eager to be back in his comforting embrace.

It was selfish, and she knew it, but the emotion couldn't be helped. She couldn't overcome the feeling that if she could just fall into his arms the galaxy would right itself again. There was no pain and bitterness there, only love. She could be herself, could give up responsibility and obligation. There was only him and her, and their love.

If only life was always that simple.

Carefully she brushed a finger over his forehead. There was only one way she could overcome all her internal struggles by the time he roused. She wasn't looking forward to it, but it was just something she had to do. She hoped he would understand.

"Jag," she said softly, wondering if by some divine miracle he could hear, "I don't know if you knew or not, but my dad died saving us. I need to say goodbye to him Jag. And thank him." She paused, pursing her lips. "Can you understand? I have to pay my respects to him. He's done so much for me, so much for _us_. He's given us a future, a chance to be together. A chance to live my life the way I want it. What more could I ask?" She teared for a moment, and wiped at her eyes furiously.

"There's so much I'll never be able to say to him. But I can say goodbye." Jaina looked at the floor. "There's going to be a ceremony. A memorial, too. The service and the dedication is tomorrow. I want to be there, Jag. It's the least I can do."

She shuffled her feet uncertainly, realizing the absurdity of speaking to someone who couldn't hear her. But she owed him an explanation, either way. "I don't want to leave you, especially when you're this sick. But I really think this is just something I have to do. I know, I'm not supposed to be going to Coruscant. But do you really think they'll stop a daughter from paying her last respects? I don't know. But I have to try." She stood carefully, then bent and placed a gentle, loving kiss to his lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I love you, Jag. Promise me you'll be here when I get back?"

He didn't move. Jaina let out a breath she hadn't know she had been holding. So this is how she would have to leave it? She had no choice. Running her fingers through his hair one last time, Jaina turned and left. The sooner she was gone, the sooner she could come back to him. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Jaina crouched in the darkness, pulling her cloak closer to her chilled body. She shivered, even though the weather wasn't all that cool. In fact, for Coruscant, it was a beautiful day. The sun shone happily in the clear skies, seemingly oblivious to the mourning lifeforms on the planet's surface. The sun made it harder for Jaina to be inconspicuous, and so she huddled further and further beneath her cloak.

She was afraid to take a hovertaxi, and so resorted to walking the few blocks to the Great Hall where Han Solo's memorial service would be in probably less than a half hour. Jaina was unconcerned with being on time. In fact, she preferred to be late. She would be immediately recognized at such a gathering, and coming in late would prevent a confrontation between herself and her mother. How would it look for the chief of state to have her mourning daughter turned out of her father's memorial service on the Holonet? 

Until then, Jaina wished to keep her anonymity. The last thing she wanted was for the media to get wind of her presence, or worse yet, her mother. She hadn't even made her presence known to her brothers and uncle because of this. She didn't think they would tell, but any link to her mother made her chances of slipping in unnoticed slimmer.

Jaina weaved in and out of the foot traffic, passing more people than she went against. Most were going exactly where she was. Even if it would be too crowded to go inside, they insisted on being present for their hero's final farewell. Jaina didn't intend to sit outside with them, though. She would be up front, with her brothers, right where she should be. How she would get there was another matter. She supposed she would take care of that one step at a time.

She could see the Hall up ahead, and shouldered her way forcefully through the crowd. Most people grunted and pushed back, but Jaina's lithe Jedi frame helped her slip easily through gaps until she was at the entrance to the building. It's gold and marble surface had been polished to a shining hue, and it gleamed brilliantly in the sun, hurting Jaina's eyes. She squinted against it, climbing the burnished marble stairs two at a time until she stood on its apex. There she was met with the whithering stairs of a dozen guards who had roped off the area. "The space is full. You'll have to watch the screens outside with everyone else," one barked at her.

Jaina waved her hand nonchalantly as she unclipped one of the ropes and stepped around the other side. "There's room enough for me. I'm too small to take up much space."

The guard scratched his head and looked to his compatriots. "She's too small to take up much space. There's enough room for one more." 

Jaina smiled beneath her cowl and sidled past them and into the building. The corridors were deserted, so she followed the sound of the microphones to the main area. Only the huge wooden doors stood between her and the room of mourners. Jaina took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders out from under the robes, letting them fall to the ground. She was dressed underneath in her Imperial dress uniform, complete with all the multicolored bars pasted across the left side of her chest. Then she opened the door.

The entire congregation stopped and turned in their seats as the huge doors creaked open. Utter silence met her. For a moment Jaina stood in the doorway, looking at the scene before her. She was at the end of long aisle leading to a covered casket raised on a dais. Kneeling in front of it were five people, all who turned to look at Jaina as well. Jaina sighed and started forward. The only sound in the Hall was the clacking of her won boots on the stone floor, not even a whisper of another sound. Jaina's heart pounded in her ears, but the rhythm of her footsteps was even. Finally she came to the end of the aisle, where she stopped and looked at the five members of her family who knelt there.

Leia Organa Solo stood with in a flourish of robes, her countenance one of frenzied grief. She looked as if she hadn't slept or eaten in days. She looked worse than Jaina had ever seen her. And the stare she fixed Jaina with was harsher than anyone she had ever given her. "What are _you_ doing here?" she hissed into the silence.

Jaina looked to her brothers, who moved away from each other, leaving a space on the ground for her. Jaina lowered herself gracefully between them, then turned to answer her mother. "I am here to say goodbye to my father. Would you deny me my last goodbyes?"

Silence reigned in the convocation room. The loudest noise was the panting breath of the smoldering Chief of State. Finally her face seemed to cave in on itself, as if the fight she had wanted wasn't worth having. She half-knelt half-collapsed onto the floor beside Luke, who took her hand encouragingly. He looked over at Jaina and smiled then, offering welcome. Jaina noted that his skin was an unhealthy gray and his blue eyes lacking their usual shine. He was grieving with the rest of them.

Jaina linked arms silently with her brothers as the service continued as it had before she interrupted. A man Jaina didn't recognize stood on the other side of the bier, reading the ancient Corellian rites of passage. She didn't understand the anile tongue, but knew their meaning well.

Jaina lowered her head and put herself fully in the moment, let her hurting rule the moment. She groaned softly and clutched Jacen and Anakin's hands fiercely between her own. They gripped back, Anakin's so strong she thought the bones in her hand might break. Where he exhibited his pain outwardly, Jacen seemed to shrink under his. His palm was slick with sweat, his hand almost limp in its return embrace. He was lost inside himself, feeling the pain with such an intensity it frightened Jaina. But she knew this was how he handled things. He would let go of everything now, wallow in his sorrow, and after it was over would pick up and move on. This was the only time he would let the pain take control. After this service, it would never have power over him again. Maybe he was better off, she thought.

She looked up at the bier in front of her, looming in its considerable mass. This wasn't her father. Not all of him, at least. It was wreckage gathered from the site of his demise, but there was no assurance that any part of his body rested there. It was a formality, a symbol. It supposedly helped with the closure.

As the service came to a close Jaina rose stiffly to her feet with a little help from Anakin. They were the only ones who knew how she felt, who would ever truly understand her loss. But a sorrow shared was a sorrow halved. Or in this case, trisected. So Jaina leaned on his shoulder—which she realized with a start was now at the height of her own head; where did the time go?—and looped her arm through his. Jacen took her other side, but stood tall beside them. He had grieved, and now he would move on. 

Luke helped Leia to her feet beside them. She leaned heavily against him, and Jaina thought she might collapse without his support. Luke and Leia went down the aisle first, and the three siblings followed closely behind. After they were gone the rest of the congregation filed out solemnly.  
Leia would make her own address tomorrow when the statue built in his honor was unveiled and dedicated. Jaina was glad of this. It would give them all time to recoup. Jaina didn't want to be blubbering like a fool in the middle of it. In fact, Jaina wasn't even sure she would go. She had paid her respects, and staying any longer seemed pointless. Jag needed her, and she needed him. The more she thought of it, the more staying seemed illogical. As she had vowed the last time she had been on her homeworld, her relationship with him was her priority now. Nothing could get in the way of that.

While the whole of Coruscant was enveloped in artificial light, one pocket of night could be found in the deserted courtyard. Jaina could barely make out the covered sculpture in darkness, but she knew it was there. Lithely she dropped the five meters from her perch on the safety wall into the courtyard. She landed in a crouch then slowly straightened, her muscles taught and bunched under the binding flightsuit. The wind blew her hair in her face, but she pushed it aside as she slowly approached the veiled statue.

A noise wafted to her ears, and Jaina stopped short. Until the next day, this was a restricted area. If someone caught her there with her Imperial identichips...well, Jaina didn't want to think about that. Frozen in place, she listened carefully, trying to decipher what she was hearing. It was a gasping, a wheezing almost. A whimpering, that was it. Someone was crying. 

Jaina took a few careful steps foreward and peered into the depths of the night. There, crouched at the base of the statue, was a hooded figure. It was on its knees, hunched over itself under simple robes. Jaina went towards it, deliberately keeping the whisper from her footsteps until she stood beside the hooded one. She stooped next to it. Under the hood was the face so like her own.

Leia turned to look at her eldest child. "Why are you here?" she said softly. There was no evidence in her voice of the tears Jaina had heard.

Jaina looked at the covered statue. "For the same reason you are, I guess."

Leia followed her gaze. "He would have hated this."

Jaina allowed herself a small laugh. "He would have _really_ hated this." She looked at her mother curiously. "You mean you didn't plan this?"

Leia shook her head. "Hardly. I didn't plan any of this. My aides did it all. Today was the first day I've been out of bed since he died." 

Jaina bit her lower lip. "Did...did you really love him?" 

Leia's head snapped around as if she had been slapped. "How can you even ask that? Han was...Han was my everything. He's still my everything. My life is empty now."

Jaina felt a surge of anger. "Empty, hmm? Nothing to live for? Three children and a galaxy under your care and there's nothing to live for? Oh, that's _totally_ understandable."

Leia looked away. "My children don't need me. You stopped needing me years ago."

Jaina licked her lips nervously. "Perhaps. But what about before then? You had your chance to be a mother to us. And if you had you would have had us to lean on now." Jaina felt a sudden swelling of bitterness. "It's your own fault you're alone."

Leia's tears stained the front of her robe. "I know. I know."

Jaina's heart was hardened to her suffering. "Why did you even _have_ children if you were just going to give them away?"

"I wasn't chief of state when we had the three of you! I didn't know, okay? And then Mon Mothma got sick. She asked me take care of the Republic for her. It took up so much time...and then I started to have fights with Han over it. He said that me being away was why everyone thought it was so easy to kidnap you. That I needed to come home and help him protect you." Leia stopped, choking on long-buried emotions. "I couldn't just abandon the Republic that way. So we decided you should go live with Luke. It was the best thing for everyone."

Jaina rocked back on her heels, not really interested in debating the point. In this at least, she was right. Jaina and Jacen and Anakin had been better off with the Jedi Master, because he had loved them. He had guided them through life and set their feet firmly on the right path. He had given them stability. These were things Jaina could have never gotten at home. "That may be. But you must have not learned the same things in life Uncle Luke did, because he told me something when I was little that you haven't learned yet. He told me that you have to realize what's important to you, and take responsibility for your actions. He was talking about being a Jedi, and knowing where to draw my moral line. But it applies to you as well. You chose to bring three children into the galaxy, and it was your responsibility to take care of us." 

"It was also my responsibility to make sure the New Republic was run correctly. And I couldn't pass that on to someone else. But I could make sure you were loved, that you were fed and taught about the Force and learned about everything a child needs to know when becoming an adult. Luke did that for you when I couldn't. I _did_ the responsible thing, whether you accept that or not." 

Jaina looked away. "What about the Chiss?"

Leia sighed deeply. "In that I failed you. But I do not regret it. It brought a powerful ally to the Republic that we would have never had otherwise. I had given up responsibility to you, a long time ago but the Republic was still in my care. Like you said, I had to prioritize."

Jaina's gut burned in anger, but almost as soon as it rose it vanished. Jaina didn't want to spend the rest of her life being angry with her. There was nothing she could say that would change the past. But maybe she could change the future. "I don't agree with you; but we don't have to agree on everything. Before I go, Mother, I want to give you something to think about. You've given up your whole life for the Republic. As long as it stands, your life will never be empty. Don't let your whole life have been for nothing. Stand up for them now, Mother, when they really need you! Give this war your all! Join with Empire and the Chiss and defend this galaxy you've sacrificed everything for! Don't let the Yuuzhan Vong take away what you have left. Don't."

Leia just stared pale-faced up into Jaina's eyes. "If I did, would it make up for everything I've done in the past?"

Jaina slowly shook her head. "No. But it would go a long way towards making Jacen and Anakin and me respect you."

Leia looked back down at the ground. Jaina left.

Jagged Fel felt like he was standing at the center of a star, that all the bright light in the galaxy was being directly focused into his eyes. He groaned and drew his hands—that were strangely sluggish—up to cover them. He rubbed vigorously until the light seemed a little less imposing, then opened them a sliver. A featureless chrome droid face looked down at him. "Welcome back, General Fel," it said.

Jag tried to respond, but ended up coughing on his dry throat instead. A cup was put to his lips, and he drank eagerly. Feeling a little better, he turned back to the droid. "Jaina?" he said simply. He couldn't remember where he should be or what had happened to get him there, but he had the distinct impression he should be concerned for her safety.

The Emdee droid treaded past the foot of his bed to read the vital signs on a monitor. "Your wife is not here, I am afraid."

Jag felt his heart constrict into a knot with fear, and the monitor beside his bed's beeping grew more rapid. "Where is she?" he struggled.

"I am not sure," the droid responded, moving to his side. "But she left a datacard for you, if you would like to read it."

Jag nodded vigorously, but relaxed somewhat just knowing that she was alive. The droid left the room for a moment, and when it returned it was carrying a datapad in one of its four arms. Jag snatched it away and turned it on hurriedly. Words appeared immediately on the screen.

_Dear Jag,_

I don't know what kind of state you'll be in when you get this, so I'm going to cover everything. First, I want to say what an idiot you made of yourself coming after me like that. And I love you so much for it. Sadly, we lost the battle for Ithor. But the only reason we're alive right now is my father. He saved us. But he died doing it. That's why I'm not here with you right now. I need to be on Coruscant for the memorial service. I have to say goodbye, Jag, and thank him for giving us a future. I shouldn't be there long, and hopefully I'll be back by the time you wake up. I hope you can understand why I did this, and know that I would so much rather be there with you. I love you Jag, and I'll come back to you as soon as I can.

Jaina

Jag sat the datapad down in his lap, not sure what to think. His heart ached for Jaina's loss, and he wished he had been awake to comfort her. He couldn't imagine the stress she must have been under, having to leave him alone and injured to pay her last respects to a father that had made the ultimate sacrifice for her. But he couldn't help but be excited by the prospect that he would get to see her again soon. She would come back to him, and then he could show her exactly how much he had missed her.

Jaina watched the service from her TIE fighter Holonet transceiver, hanging above the Coruscanti sky. She would jump to hyperspace after her mother spoke, but until then she was content to wait.

Waroo, Chewbacca's son, was speaking now. The service held in Chewie's memory had been on Kashyyyk the day before, and Waroo had traveled immediately to Coruscant to be there for Han's the next day. He growled and barked in the rumbling Wookiee tongue, and in the background an announcer translated. He told of the lifedebt between their families, and the love and loyalty that would always lie there. He spoke of how his father wouldn't have wanted to die any other way, and he was sure Han Solo had felt the same. After he was done Leia came to stand behind the podium.

She looked a little better than she had been the night before, but still not herself. As she flipped through the flimsiplast sheets in front of her her hands trembled slightly, but her gaze never wavered. When she looked up finally she seemed to be in control of herself. "This day," she began slowly, "is a day I never foresaw. I never dreamed twenty five years ago when a dashing young smuggler rescued me from the heart of the Death Star that one day I would stand next to a memorial in his honor, after sharing a lifetime of memories and love with him.

"Han Solo never aspired to be a hero, and I think that made him all the more heroic. He may not have always played the part, but when the chips were down he never failed me, or the galaxy. He was my rock, my shelter in the storm. With him at my side, there was no problem too great. The galaxy made sense." 

Leia paused, but whether out of emotion or dramatic effect Jaina couldn't tell. "And my husband met his end in the noblest of ways. Knowing him as I did, I can say with an honest heart that any lesser death would have been unacceptable to him. He gave his life for one of our children, and for the protection of a galaxy he gave up so much for.

"But the legacy of my husband will not die. He will live forever in our hearts, and will be remembered fondly by a wife, three children, and a grateful galaxy. This, our heritage, our freedom, is his legacy. And that is why we cannot let our way of life fall."

She shifted her stance, seeming to switch subtly from passive to aggressive. "Han and the martyrs at Ithor will not have died in vain, that I swear to you. The Yuuzhan Vong pose a threat not only to our safety, but to our intrinsic way of life. There has not been a more dire threat to this galaxy, to our families, since the Emperor. I will not stand aside now and let them walk freely across our borders and pillage our planets as if the can have anything they want. I state right now with the entire galaxy, the esteemed members of the Senate, and my grieving family that this shall not continue. When I leave here I am immediately going to open negotiations with Grand Admiral Pellaeon of the Imperial Remnant and the Four Ruling Families of the Chiss Ascendancy. Together we will unite and drive back these foes from another galaxy, and together we will emerge strong and victorious."

Jaina smiled from her perch in the vacuum, and cut the connection. She didn't need to see the rest. If Leia Organa Solo never did anything for her again, that would be okay because Jaina would forever be grateful to her mother for this day. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Yaga Minor and the remainder of the Imperial fleet resolved in her canopy, and Jaina's excitement peaked. Jag was most certainly awake and waiting for her by now. _That's_ where she wanted to be. By his side.

The _Roughshod_ loomed closer, alongside the _Chimaera_ and numerous other battle cruisers. Jaina swerved towards the docking bay of her flagship, knowing they would recognize her transponder code. She sailed smoothly inside the opening and settled on the deck, anticipation making her hands tremble slightly on the control stick. She powered down and popped the rounded canopy, stood and stretched. The pretense of aloofness didn't last, and she jumped lightly onto the deck and walked briskly towards the turbolifts.

She was met halfway there by a young aide. "General Solo-Fel?"

Jaina turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"The Grand Admiral wanted me to tell you when you arrived that he needed you on the _Chimaera_. Something about a meeting with the Moff Council and the New Republic Chief of State."

Jaina gritted her teeth. Priorities; she needed to remain cognizant of her priorities. And as he had been for the past five months, Jag was her priority. "Tell him I'm sorry, but I still have thirty-six hours left in my leave of absence, and I plan to make full use of it. I'll report in when my time is up." 

She turned quickly from the confused aide and jumped inside the turbolift. The ride to the MedCenter was one of the longest of her life, and by the time the door swished open she was practically bouncing with excitement. She hurried outside and down the cooridor, turned the corner into his room—

And stopped short as she saw the empty bed. Fear grabbed her in a choke hold, and for a tense moment she couldn't breathe. An Emdee droid trundled through the cubical to another, and Jaina called out to him. "Where is he?" she yelled desperately, hoping he had just been moved, or taken out of the Intensive Care Unit...

"Looking for me?"

Jaina flipped around to see a perfectly healthy Jag grinning like a Kowakian monkey lizard. She froze, caught between shock and joy and a feeling not too unlike starvation. And then she was caught between his strong arms and solid chest, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. She reached up and pulled him down closer, savoring the taste that had been absent for far too long.

Finally he broke for air, his hand caressing her chestnut hair lovingly. "Force, I missed you," he gasped.

Jaina looked up at him in incredulity, still trying to register the fact that he was actually _there_. How many times had she dreamed of this moment? Almost every night since she had seen him last, it seemed. Love and passion flared in her chest, and she kissed him again in answer, forcefully. She only pulled away when she realized they were two generals in the Imperial Navy making out in a public corridor, not just Jaina and Jag reuniting after months apart. She buried her face in his chest and sighed, content with the universe.

"I'm so sorry about your Dad, Jaina," he spoke into the following silence.

Jaina pulled out of his embrace but kept both his hands clasped in hers. "Thank you. But I'm resolved to it. Nothing will ever make up for his loss, but there's good come from it. It gave me a chance to talk to my mother, and I think she's opening up talks with the Admiral and the Asendancy to join the war."

Jag's face blossomed. "That's wonderful!"

Jaina smiled, reaching up to trace the scar on his forehead fondly. "How long has it been since I told you I loved you?"

He leaned down to kiss her brow, then pressed his to her own, bringing their lips centimeters apart. "Too long." She tried to kiss him, but he pulled away suddenly with a roguish grin. "But I never was one for words." He tugged on her hand lightly as he spoke, leading her down the corridor.

Jaina's mouth turned up as well when she recognized his intentions, and let herself be led eagerly back to their quarters.

Jaina was caught in the world that existed between awareness and sleep, falling intermittently between the two. Her mind worked, but not fully or with ease. Mostly her head was full of random thoughts and feelings, emotions. There was love, spilling out of her like a fountain in the desert. Even in sleep she knew she was again in her lover's arms. There was also sorrow, an unhealed wound that had been opened at her father's death. In the back of her mind were the less open and prominent feelings, the ones she kept secreted deep inside where no one could see. Bitterness towards the path her life had been forced onto, tempered with thankfulness that it had led her to love. Anger at her mother, recently diluted by gratefulness that she had for once done something for the interest of someone other than herself.

But Jaina herself didn't recognize any of them, just floated inside them. They were there, part of her. They made up who she was. But there was something else, something she had never realized made up her spiritual self before. Its alieness piqued her interest, made the segment of her mind that was cognizant turn inward and examine the place she was in. What was it? She shifted from blissfully unaware to introspective in a millisecond, going from asleep to self-examining in an instant. What was it? As she reached out to touch the part of her she had never before seen, she was jolted suddenly awake.

"Jaina?"

Her eyes snapped open, her body going rigid. Jag lay on the cot beside her, propped up on one elbow and the other draped over her waist. "Huhn?" she asked groggily.

Jag furrowed his brow, his look slightly curious and concerned. "You okay?"

Jaina wiped a hand over her face. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged and lowered himself back down beside her, pulling her into the curve of his arm. "You were sleeping, and then you went all stiff and started jerking."

"I did?"

He nodded.

Jaina looked away. "I was having a dream," she said. "I think." 

He kissed the nape of her neck tenderly. "That's why I woke you up."

Jaina allowed herself a tight smile. "Is it?" 

He chuckled deep in his throat, the noise close to her ear. "Well..."

Pellaeon tapped his fingers on the desk in a clearly disapproving manner. "That a was very important meeting, Generals."

Jaina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You were the one who gave me leave, Admiral. I was just using it."

Pellaeon's scowl deepened. "The point is that I summoned you to a gathering that it was imperative you attend, and you refused. I had to tell Chief of State Organa Solo I had to delay the peace talks we've been waiting for for _years_ because two important members of my staff were tardy. Can you even fathom how embarrassing that was?"

Jaina tossed Jag—who had remained mostly silent—a look, then turned back to the Grand Admiral. "Don't worry about her. Letting her know you're not going to bow and scrape for her help is a good thing, trust me. I know her. Give her a centimeter and she'll take a kilometer."

"It would be better than angering her until she backs out of the agreement all together."

"Trust me, she's not going to do that." 

"How do you know?" Pellaeon questioned.

"Because I'm the one that talked her into it."

Silence reigned in the Admiral's office. Both Pellaeon and Jag stared at her in incredulity. "You went to _Coruscant_?" Pellaeon sputtered finally.

Jaina raised her chin. "I had to be there for my father's funeral."

"I can understand that. But it should have been done diplomatically, with an envoy and permission given from their office to this one. You went about it in the wrong way." 

Jag shifted in his seat. "Cut her some slack, Admiral. Her father had just died."

Pellaeon's countenance softened slightly. "I know that. But that doesn't make it any more diplomatic."

"I didn't go as a representative of this government, Admiral. I went as a daughter, and a sister, and a Jedi," Jaina explained. "And as a daughter I convinced my mother to do the right thing, to defend the New Republic and join with us, for their own sake. You don't need to fear political repercussions."

"Let us hope so," Pellaeon sighed. "But I fully and completely expect the both of you to be present tomorrow at the rescheduled conference."

Taking that as their cue, the two Imperials stood. Jag offered a salute, and Jaina followed with a little sloppier version. "We'll be there, Admiral," he replied. 

"Good," Pellaeon returned. "If this goes well, I might be able to forgive you your small indiscretion."

"And I was so worried," Jaina said with a wink, then turned and left, too soon to see the Admiral smile after her.

For at least the tenth time that night, Jaina shifted in her seat and ran a fidgety hand through her hair. Jag sighed but said nothing. He wasn't sure she even knew she was doing it. But he did. Something was bothering her, and had been since she had woken that morning. She had thus far been silent all through their dinner, and kept getting a far away look in her eyes. When she did speak it was usually just to answer him, and in small sentences.

"So how are your brothers handling everything?" Jag asked, trying to phrase his question so she would have to answer with more than one word.

Jaina twirled her fork around aimlessly in her mashed protato. "Jacen seemed to be holding up well. But I think Anakin took it really hard. That's understandable, considering he knew even less about Dad than I did, though. But he'll get over it. He'll have to."

Jag smiled. "He'll be fine, I'm sure."

Jaina just nodded. Jag sighed, unable to keep up the charade any longer. "What's wrong, Jaina?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, feigning confusion.

"You haven't been yourself all day. What's bothering you? Did I do something?"

Jaina grabbed his hand quickly, looking aghast. "No! No, it has nothing to do with you, Jag. Being back with you has been wonderful. It's just...I feel a little, I don't know, _off_."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure."

"Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head. "I think this is just something I have to work out in my head."

Jag regarded her over the table. "Does it have anything to do with your dad?"

"Maybe." She put on a brave smile. "It'll be okay. I'll sleep on it, and let you know in the morning."

Leia was dressed in her signature white, her hair pulled into intricate patterns and curls and piled onto the crown of her head. Even through the hologram she managed to convey a sense of elegance and propriety. Jaina leaned forward in her seat, eager to hear the Grand Admiral's response. 

Gilad Pellaeon fingered his drooping mustache. "I hardly think that's necessary."

Leia shrugged. "It's the only thing that will satisfy the senate."

"Full access to our navy? Be reasonable, Leia. It would be easier to forge two separate wars on the Vong."

"Why shouldn't we join, Gilad? It seems only logically. The Remnant has held out for over two decades, don't you think it's time to finally give in?"

"I will not give up the Empire's independence. We are two separate nations, and it's going to stay that way. What I want is a mutual agreement to help each other in this endeavor against our shared enemy. There is no reason why that cannot happen."

Leia cocked her head slightly. "Is my daughter with you, Admiral?"

It was the first time Jaina's defection had been mentioned, and Jaina tensed in anticipation of his answer. Pellaeon shifted his footing. "I'm not sure the location of one of my officers is pertinent to this conversation."

"Perhaps not, but I ask it anyway," Leia responded cooly.

Pellaeon's eyes narrowed. "General Solo-Fel is currently a part of my fleet group, yes."

"Is she in the room with you, Gilad?"

Pellaeon looked through the hologram to where Jaina sat on the other side, the question in his eyes. _Where is she going with this?_ Jaina thought. She nodded curtly. What could it hurt?

"She is a member of of my inner council, so yes, you should be able to expect her to be at any high-level meetings."

A hint of a smile colored her mouth. "May I speak with her?"

"No."

There was a hushed silence between the two. "Fine," Leia answered at last. "Then I will speak openly. My life has been dedicated to the New Republic, and Jaina can attest to this, even if you won't let her now. I have and will give everything to keep it safe. It's all I have left. I know that a treaty with the Empire is the best way of doing that. Factions of the Senate, however, do not see things so clearly. If we're going to make this work, you need to make some sort of concession, Gilad, for them to trust you. You need to help me in this."

Pellaeon's gaze again flicked to where Jaina sat. Jaina simply hiked a thumb at Jag , who stood in a corner with his arms crossed over his chest. He shrugged. Pellaeon nodded in understanding.

"Leia, if you're wanting me to give your daughter back into New Republic hands as a term of the treaty, you are wasting your time. Even if I was willing to give up the valuable resources she provides, it's simply not something I am authorized to do. Joining the Empire was her own decision, and it will be her decision when she leaves."

Jaina couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had traded her off for a treaty, and now she was trying to buy her back for one? What was the sense in that? She looked to Jag, motioning him to come to where she sat. He came to kneel beside her. "What's her motive?" she whispered.

Jag kept his eyes fixed on the hologram above the table. "If I had to guess, I'd say the Chiss are blaming the Republic for our defection. Getting us back would go a long way towards paving the road to a successful relationship with them and with the Empire."

Jaina chewed on her lower lip. "It was a stupid deal in the first place, and I won't be a pawn in it again."

Jag shook his head emphatically. "Don't worry. Pellaeon won't let us down."

Leia's eyebrows shot up at Pellaeon's words. "I never suggested anything of the kind."

"Of course not," the aging Imperial smiled. "Listen Leia, I never was one for politics. Let's not beat around the proverbial bush. You need us, and we both know it." 

"You need us as well," Leia interjected.

"We would have, if Generals Fel had not defected. But we now have all the knowledge of the enemy we need."

"And we have the resources," Leia finished.

Pellaeon inclined his head in acknowledgment. "So why can't that be enough of a reason, enough of an incentive? Let's think logically. There is no need to give up what we both hold dear, either our independence or our very existence." 

Leia stood unmoving for so long Jaina began to wonder if the hologram had frozen. Finally she let out a great sigh and lowered her head. "What are your terms?"

And so the actual forming of the alliance commenced. Jaina sat back in her chair with a smile, and reached for Jag's hand. He squeezed back, a smile spreading over his usually solemn features. Whatever the future held, it was suddenly looking a whole lot brighter. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

The beauty of Coruscant had faded somewhat in his eyes, Jag thought as he stood on the bridge of the _Valorous_. Not that it had changed, it just seemed less impressive. That was fine with him. Jag didn't want to be impressed. He was here as an Imperial officer, not a tourist.

The _Chimaera_ had jumped from Yaga Minor three standard days before, leaving instructions for the _Valorous_ and the _Roughshod_ to follow in a few days. They weren't to arrive until the day of the actual ceremony, making a show of force for the New Republic citizens. It was all pomp and circumstance, but that was okay with Jag. He had waited a long time for this day, for a time where he and Jaina could move freely about the galaxy without fear of repercussions. He wanted to be here to see it happen. 

"General?" A communications officer hailed him from the pit below the command chair.

"Yes?"

"A transmission incoming for you, Sir."

"From whom?" Jag asked.

"I'm not sure, General, someone on the surface." 

Jag rubbed a hand over his chin thoughtfully. Whoever it was, it couldn't hurt to hear from them. Besides, he was curious as to who the person was. "Patch them through."

Jag swiveled in his chair, turning to face the holoprojector on the other side of him. It crackled with static for a moment, then the image of a middle-aged woman with blond hair and sparkling green eyes appeared in the space above it. "Mother?" Jag managed, his jaw dropping as he recognized Syal Antilles Fel.

She smiled that holostar smile of hers. "Hello, Jagged. It's been a while."

"What...what are you doing here?" he asked finally, his mind not capable of wrapping itself fully around the concept.

"This is not an agreement just between the Empire and the New Republic, you know. The Ascendancy has been allied to the Remnant for years, and more recently with the Republic. To have the both of them align themselves _together_ is a momentous occasion, joining the galaxy as one in a way we have never been before. Did you expect that the Ascendancy would not want an emissary here for the signing?"

Jag wasn't sure what to say. "So they just let you come?"

"We were invited, as a matter of fact," Syal declared.

"By whom?" Jag blurted.

Syal smiled slyly. "Jaina's mother." 

Now Jag was really stunned. There had to be an ulterior motive. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Alright Mother, enough. What's _really_ going on here?"

The famous actress grinned sweetly. "Leia and I have had a wonderful time talking about the two of you the past few days. We've come up with a wonderful idea."

Jag felt a pang of fear. "What have you done?" he snapped.

She smiled again, this time genuinely. "You know me well enough to know that I would never do anything that would influence your life negatively, Jagged."

"Tell me," he said stiffly.

Syal sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have called. If I tell you it will ruin the surprise."

"I hate surprises."

Syal looked at him knowingly. "This is an important day for _you_ Jagged, not just the galaxy. It's important for you and Jaina."

"Do you think I don't know that?" he asked, but not with enough venom to raise her ire. 

"It's also important for what the two of you represent. Do you know that between you, you encompass all three factions of this galaxy? Jaina came from the Republic, you from the Chiss, and now both of you have joined the Empire. You were married as a symbol of the union of two nations the first time. Now your marriage represents the combining of our galaxy into one against the Yuuzhan Vong." 

Anger swelled inside of him. "Why can't we just be married because we love each other?"

This time Syal's smile was sympathetic. "You can. In fact, that's the most important part. Do you know what next week is, Jagged?"

Jag thought for a moment. When he had it he felt like smacking himself. "Our anniversary," he choked.

"It is. You two were going to be married again officially next week anyway, if things had gone according to plan."

Jag slowly shook his head. "This isn't something you can force us to do."

"It's not something we're _trying_ to force you to do. I know Leia wants this for political reasons, but you know I have no interest in those things. I want to see you two be happy. That marriage on Csilla was the saddest ceremony I've ever attended. Do you want to always think of your wedding day like that? This will be good for you both, Jag." 

Jag didn't know what to say. Five months ago he had proposed to Jaina again, asking her to do the very thing his mother now suggested. But he didn't like the idea of doing it now just because their mothers wanted them to. It should be something they decided together, for no other reason than the fact that they loved each other. And it certainly wasn't something Jag could commit to without speaking to Jaina first.

"I don't know what to tell you," Jag stated finally. "I'll ask Jaina about it, at any rate." 

"Oh, she already knows," Syal smiled.

"How?" Jag asked.

"Because Leia should be speaking to her about it right now."

Jag's eyes flicked to the viewport of the _Valorous_, his eyes following the long white line of the _Roughshod_ that hung to his starboard flank. "I pity her." 

Jaina slapped the button that cut the transmission angrily. What was wrong with her? If and when she and Jag renewed their vows, it would be _their_ decision, not Leia or anyone else's. But it was all about the politics for her. The fact that Jaina might not want a huge billion-credit blowout with the whole galaxy watching didn't matter either. It was all about Leia. 

Unable to contain her anger, Jaina lashed out at the holoprojector, sending the thing flying to the deck where it broke into a dozen pieces that scattered across the floor. The subordinate officers ducked and winced, some looking at her with fear in their eyes. In that moment Jaina saw herself the way they did. She was something to be feared, not because of who she was but because of _what_ she was. They had done this all before, watched a Jedi rise swiftly through their ranks and become a power to be dreaded. Now they were doing it again, with Vader's granddaughter no less. 

Horrified at the revelation, Jaina turned and left the bridge with hurried strides, the turbolift not closing fast enough for her. She covered her face with her hands, breathing hard. That wasn't like her. She had endured much from her mother, and had never reacted this way before. She was a Jedi for Force's sake! Anger was beneath her. What was going on with her? Something...something was off. She wasn't sure what, but something was affecting her. And if she had to guess, she thought it was the thing she had realized about herself in that dream. The thing that was different that she had never seen before. Jaina had been too frightened by what it might be to try to touch it again. Now she was even more afraid that she would have to.

The fear of doing so repulsed her, made her nauseas, and it was all she could do to hold her stomach long enough stumble to her quarters and vomit in the 'fresher. She wiped her face and gargled some water, then threw herself onto her bed. It had only been thirty-six hours since she had seen Jag last, but already she missed him so badly it was a physical ache. If only...if only what?

Carefully she stood, examining herself in the mirror. Nothing like this should have affected her so badly. It just wasn't like her.

Nevermind. She would overcome that part of her, the part that was changing her. She had to. She had done harder things, overcome greater threats. There would be time to for it after the ceremony.

Jaina wore her full dress uniform, epaulettes dangling over her shoulder and colored bars pinned to her chest. She marched three rows behind Pellaeon, her head held high and proud. She didn't expect her former compatriots to be overcome with joy at seeing her, and that was okay. She was proud of her decisions, and they could either deal with it or not. Either way, she didn't want to hear it.

She was beginning to think the parade hadn't been a good idea after all. No one seemed overly thrilled with their appearance, and the walk to the Senate Hall was tiring. Jaina scanned the crowd, hoping to glimpse any familiar faces. She didn't see any, so she kept her focus fixed on a point on the back of the Grand Admiral's jacket.

Jag was somewhere in the procession, she knew, but where was the question. He had arrived on-planet too late to be in the front with the other ranking officers, so she couldn't be sure where exactly he was.

The end of their trek loomed in the distance, and Jaina allowed herself a personal moment of relief. Not that anything easier lay ahead. No, this where the hard part began. If they were lucky it wouldn't last long, though. Pellaeon and Leia would sign the document they had drafted, would each say a few words, and hopefully they would be finished.

As the procession came to a stop and Pellaeon mounted the stairs Jaina let her posture relax considerably. She seemed to swelter in her wool uniform, and she tugged uncomfortably at the stiff collar. The action made her smile with memory. _I really am my father's daughter_.

On the podium with Pellaeon and Jaina's mother were various member's of the Senate and Moff Council, but her Uncle Luke was nowhere to be seen. That was somewhat surprising, but not extremely so. He had never taken to political functions well, but at a momentous occasion such as this she would have expected him to at least make an appearance. 

Quickly bored by the proceedings, Jaina took the break to search for Jag. She craned her neck, trying to get a peak over the taller officers behind her. All she saw was a sea of solid decorated chests. Miffed, she turned back to the ceremony, folding her arms over chest. She yawned loudly, drawing stares from a few of the other generals around her. She just stared back, and they turned away. 

Just as her mind began to wander, a voice that seemed to come from nowhere whispered in her ear. "Jaina."

Jaina turned, searching the crowd for the source of the voice. There, with the onlookers on the other side of the roped off street. Anakin stood in their midsts, a hood pulled over his head, but not low enough to where she couldn't see the electric sparkle of his blue eyes out of the depths of his cloak. He raised a hand, motioning her to him. Jaina looked around nervously. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her. Slowly she crept to the edge, leaning over the railing to where she could embrace her youngest sibling.

"Anakin," she breathed. "What's going on? Where is everyone?"

"Back at the apartment," he answered. "Aunt Mara just arrived on-planet, and said she had something to tell Uncle Luke. They were in a room a long time, and when they came out it looked like he had been crying. I don't know what's going on, but he wouldn't leave her to come today, even though Mom begged him. Me and Jacen didn't want to come without him, but I figured someone need to come tell you." 

Jaina pondered his words a moment. "None of that sounds very good, Anakin."

"I know," he said.

Jaina looked around furtively. "Come on, let's go."

As she tried to jump over the railing he restrained her with a firm grip on her shoulders. "Now? Don't you need to stay?"

Jaina turned back to look at the podium. No one was paying any attention to her, and probably wouldn't. She waved off his concern. "They don't need me. Let's get out of here."

The first thing that hit Jaina was how bad Mara looked. Her eyes had bags under them, she seemed thinner, and her skin almost pasty. She was much different than the alive and vibrant woman she had seen only a few months before. Still, she was one of the most beautiful women Jaina could ever remember seeing, and her athleticism was still apparently superior. Luke and Mara both smiled as Jaina followed Anakin through the door, but only Luke rose to meet her. He embraced her fiercely, and she hugged him back. "How have you been, Jaina?" Luke asked. "We didn't really get to talk after the funeral."

Jaina shrugged, noncommittal. "I like where I am in my life," she said truthfully.

Luke managed a smile. "I'm glad." He took a deep breath, and Jaina could feel him draw on the Force. But before he could speak Mara spoke up for him.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the ceremony, Jaina?"

Jaina just smiled. "They won't miss me. How are _you_, Aunt Mara?"

Mara laughed without humor. "I suspect you have an inkling. Luke, go get Jacen and we'll tell them."

Luke nodded and went to do as she said. Jaina took a seat in a chair across from her aunt, and Anakin sat on the arm of her chair. "So where's this husband of yours I haven't had the pleasure of meeting?" Mara asked.

Jaina shrugged helplessly. "I couldn't tell you. At the ceremony, I guess."

Mara laughed. "Well don't you think that's something you should know?"

Jaina giggled. "Ah, he'll be all right. He'll comm if he needs me."

That brought a rousing bout of laughter, and that's how they were when Luke came back in with Jacen. Jacen gripped Jaina's hand briefly, but other than that they saved their greeting for later. Luke took a seat beside his wife, his demeanor solemn. "Mara, I think this is something you should tell."

Mara nodded. "After our little excursion to Tiras I went back to my usual business, but I began to feel like something was wrong. I kept getting sicker, like my body was failing me one system at a time. I started going into a healing trance every night, and that helped, but if for some reason I wasn't able to I was sick again the next morning. It never went away. I began to suspect something was seriously wrong, so I went to see Cilghal on Mon Calamari before I came here. We knew I had some sort of disease, but unlike usual she couldn't feel the virus in the Force. That's why we suspect I've been implanted with some sort of Vong bioweapon."

The silence was tense. Jaina's heart was breaking for her Uncle. Mara was his world. If they didn't find cure for her... No, she couldn't think like that. "So what are you going to do?"

Mara shook her head. "Keep up the healing trances until Cilghal can come up with a cure. That's the only defense I have."

"What about the rest of us? We were exposed to the same environment you were. Why aren't we sick?" Jacen asked.

Luke shifted in his seat. "She must have been hit with an amphistaff laced with this stuff, some sort of infectious thing that was autochthonic just to that weapon."

Mara and Luke exchanged a look. "And that's not all," Mara said slowly.

Jaina braced herself for the worst.

Mara took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

As the gathering dispersed, everyone going their own separate ways, Jag searched the crowd for his wife. If he had been a Jedi finding her would have been no problem; but as it was, he had to do it the old fashion way. As he shouldered his was through the crowd, a hand reached out from somewhere, taking hold of his left bicep. "Jag!"

Jag turned to stare into the face of his uncle. Jag gave him a tight smile. "Hello again...Uncle Wedge."

Wedge Antilles smiled broadly. "I thought that was you. How have you been, Jag? Did you know your parents and sister are on planet?"

"I know," Jag replied. "Mother contacted me this morning."

As small grimace overcame the General's features. "She asked you, then?" 

Jag laughed shortly. "I guess I really was the last one to know. Have they set a date yet? Hired a caterer? Picked out Jaina's dress?"

Wedge smiled at the humorless jest. "Listen, Jag, that's why I wanted to talk to you. Where will you and Jaina be staying while you're here?"

Jag shrugged. "With the other officers in the Embassy, I guess. Or with her Uncle."

Wedge grinned broadly. "How would the two of you like to escape your meddling mothers and come stay with Iella and myself?"

Jag frowned. "Aren't Mother and Father staying with you?"

Wedge shook his head. "Nope. We offered, but Soontir wouldn't hear of it. Anyway, I doubt anyone will think to look for you with us, if you'll stay. Iella and the girls are so excited to meet you."

Jag hesitated. "Jaina still might want to stay with her Uncle. Hang on, I'll comm her and ask."

Jaina wasn't sure what to say. "Pregnant?" she stuttered.

Mara nodded. "That's why I need to stay here with you all for a while. If it was just me I'm protecting, I would be okay. But I have a child to defend, and I'll need Luke's help with that. I'm not so stubborn as to risk my child on a chance. I want certainty."

"We'll help any way we can, Aunt Mara," Anakin said staunchly.

About then Jaina's comm chirped. "Excuse me," Jaina said, pulling the small cylinder from her belt and retreating to the other side of the room. Glad for the chance to remove herself from the tension, she pulled the small device to her mouth. "Fel," she said softly. 

"Hey, babe. Where are you?"

Jaina smiled lovingly at the sound of his voice. She suddenly felt a whole lot more appreciative of him and their time together. "At my uncle's. I left the ceremony early. What's up?"

"Well, I was wondering where you were wanting to stay tonight. I know you didn't want to go back to the _Roughshod_ so soon."

Jaina looked over her shoulder at the area where he family sat. She wasn't sure could take the stress in this house. "The Embassy, I guess."

"I kind of have another option, if you want it."

"Sure." 

"Wedge caught up with me after it was over, and offered to let us stay with him and his family. He said no one would look for us there."

Jaina smiled. "'No one' as in our mothers?" 

"Ah, so you got the call too."

Jaina grimaced at the memory. "You know, hiding away for a while is starting to sound really good. You sure he won't mind?"

There was a pause and muffled sounds of conversation. When he came back he said, "Yeah, he's pretty insistent. So I'll see you there?"

"I shouldn't be much longer. I'll call if I am."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

The connection ended, and Jaina went back to stand behind the chair where she had formerly sat. "Aunt Mara, Uncle Luke, I know this is hard, but you both are so strong. And we'll all help any way we can. And you're having a baby! That's something to celebrate." She leaned forward, gripping both their hands. "If I can do anything, I mean _anything_, for you all, just let me know. But right now I have to go. Jag is waiting for me."

"Aren't you staying with us?" Luke questioned.

Jaina shook her head sadly. "The last thing you all need is the two of us hanging around and making a mess." 

"Hey, when you live with Anakin you can deal with anything," Jacen joked, earning him a solid but playful punch on the shoulder.

"Seriously, Jaina, it would be no problem. This will always be your home," Luke said.

"It's not just me anymore, Uncle Luke. There's Jag, too. And he has family on Coruscant just like I do." At their perplexed expression she said, "Wedge. He's offered to let us stay with him and Iella."

They looked a little disappointed, but Jaina didn't have time to dwell on it. She had places to be and things to do, and staying in a place so full of depression wasn't going to help her progress. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

"Can I play with your lightsaber?"

Jaina looked at the small girl, her brown eyes large with put-on innocence. Jaina grinned slyly. "Sure."

Syal Antilles' eyes widened with surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah," Jaina said, "if you can tell me the first person to ever build one."

Syal's lower lip formed in a practiced pout, and she folded her arms over her chest. "How am I supposed to know that? I'm not a Jedi."

"Then why do you need a Jedi weapon?"

Unable to form a suitable response, she turned from Jaina and went back to sit on her father's lap. Iella grinned at Jaina over a steaming cup of caf. "Very good, for someone with no children of their own."

Jaina shrugged, but smiled at the praise.

"By the way, who _was_ the first person to build a lightsaber?" Wedge questioned wryly. 

Jaina laughed. "I haven't the slightest idea."

Laughter rose suddenly from the other side of the room, where Myri had coaxed Jag into playing a game of Catwalks and Turbolifts. "I win, I win!" the dark-headed child squealed gleefully, sending Jag superior looks as she danced around his chair.

Jag stood, pulling a mock-crestfallen face. "I think you cheated."

Myri stopped dead, turning to plant her hands on her hips. "Did not!" 

Syal giggled from her perch on Wedge's lap. "I bet she did."

Myri turned a horrified look on her older sister. "I did not!" She spun angrily on Jag. "And you know I didn't!" 

"Maybe," Jag said mischievously.

Myri smiled. "See? I won fair and square."

"I bet I can beat you," Syal stated confidently.

"Can not!"

"Can too!" 

And it was on again, this time the siblings engaging in a heated match by themselves. Jag came to sit by Jaina, who was barely containing her laughter. "What are _you_ laughing at?" he said playfully, draping an arm over her shoulders.

"You," she said.

"Don't feel bad," Wedge said, "not everyone can win Catwalks and Turbolifts every time."

"Ha ha," Jag said as the the other three laughed hysterically at his expense. "I've beat whole squadrons of coralskippers by myself, I could have won that if I had wanted to. I was just being nice."

Jaina smiled placatingly and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Of course you could."

Jag scowled at her humor, but not without a touch of his own amusement. Now free of the demands of their daughters, Wedge and Iella seemed a little more open with their conversation. "How does the Imperial government compare in standards to the Republic, Jaina?" Wedge asked.

Jaina raised a single eyebrow. "Are you asking me as a General in the Imperial Navy, or a family friend?"

Wedge smiled. "A friend."

"Well, as a friend and civilian, I am not privy to such information."

"And a general?"

"As a general I would be forced to question why I am being prodded for for intelligence I am not authorized to disclose without explicit permission."

Wedge gave no impression of being miffed at her put-off. "I expected as much."

"So do you all live on Bastion?" Iella asked.

Jag shook his head. "We have a place there, just like everyone else, but I haven't been there in weeks, and I don't think Jaina has either. We basically live on the _Valorous_ and _Roughshod_."

"You like the TIE design?" Wedge asked Jaina.

She shrugged, noncommittal. "It's well-suited for certain battles, but I would still prefer an X-wing I think."

Wedge smiled triumphantly. "Good girl." 

About then Jag's comm started chirping wildly, and he pulled it quickly from his jacket breast-pocket. "Fel," he said, standing.

"General, will you not be joining the rest of our envoy at the Embassy?"

"Sorry, Admiral, we're staying with family," Jag replied.

"That's fine, for tonight. But we're shipping off tomorrow, early, and I expect the both of you to be on the same schedule as everyone else."

"We'll be there," Jag promised.

"Checking up on us again?" Jaina asked as he sat back down.

"Yes. I think he's a little nervous, bringing us back here. Like we might decide to switch over again or something."

Jaina snorted. "Like that's going to happen. I can't imagine what he could do to us that would be worse than what Mother did."

Wedge shifted in his seat. "If you ever change your minds, we're ready for you."

"No offense, UncleWedge, but the Empire is so much more suited to our needs than the Chiss or the Republic it's ridiculous," Jag said. 

Iella smiled easily, obviously trying to diffuse the situation. "Each for their own."

"How is Luke doing? I didn't see him at the ceremony," Wedge commented.

Jaina shifted apprehensively. "He's well. It's just that Mara's here." 

"Oh. That's the second time this month. She was here a few weeks ago too, for a day or two I think. I only remember because the Holonet made a big deal about their relationship being on the rocks," Wedge explained.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "Anything but. They'll say anything to get a reaction out of people. Did you see the one about my affair with an Imperial colonel?"

Iella laughed lightly. "You mean there's no credence to that?"

"No more than my secret lover back in on Csilla," Jag joked.

"Don't worry about them," Iella said when the mirth died down, "one day you'll grow old like us and they'll realize you aren't going to break up after all."

Jaina smiled, but not without a touch of sadness. "We can only hope."

She had expected to see many surprising things while the Empire stayed on Coruscant, but none so as the presence of Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker standing next to Pellaeon on the shuttle boarding ramp. Jaina approached cautiously, not sure what to make of the exchange. 

As they saw her coming the trio turned in greeting, all seemingly oblivious to the oddness about the gathering. "General Fel, I think you're acquainted with the Masters Skywalker?" Pellaeon smirked.

Jaina grinned tightly. "A little." 

"They have put in a request to travel with the _Chimaera_ on behalf of the new alliance and promoting good relations." 

Jaina tried to keep the shock from her face, but failed miserably too keep it from the Force. "Oh," was all she could think to say.

"They said you could vouch for their trustworthiness."

Jaina shuffled from one foot to the other. "They are completely trustworthy, of course, but I wonder at the reason for their wish to be included," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on her uncle. It was he who spoke next.

"You have gained your worth because of your knowledge of the enemy, knowledge gained by time spent fighting them. We want to learn the same things first-hand, and help pass them on to the rest of the Jedi."

Jaina nodded slowly. There was something else though, some reason they weren't revealing. "Is that wise?" she asked, this time focusing her gaze on Mara. Her unspoken question was transferred easily between them, and Mara's only response was the slight hardening around her eyes. This illness wasn't going to keep her out of the fight, not by a long shot.

"Well, then, I have nothing but good things to say for their integrity," Jaina said to Pellaeon in truth.

"I expected as much. Well, then, I see no reason why you can't accompany us for a while. A short while, at least," Pellaeon said.

Luke bowed graciously, the hem of his Jedi robe sweeping the ground. "We are very thankful, Admiral."

"Well, I suggest you board the shuttle and strap in. And General, you need to be returning to the _Roughshod_." 

Jaina didn't reply, just saluted smartly and marched back to her own shuttle, wondering what her aunt and uncle were up to.

Jaina had only just showered and laid down for her scheduled field nap when the buzzer to her apartment door rang. She didn't move, but stretched out in the Force to see who was intruding on her solitude. It was Mara. She gave her mental permission to enter, and the door swished open to reveal the tall red-head standing in the opening, dressed in training fatigues and a lightsaber on her belt. "Jaina," she said, stepping inside. "Quite a ship you're running here."

She expended the effort and sat up on the edge of her bed. "Thank you. I don't mean to be rude, Aunt Mara, but I'm really tired. If this isn't important..."

"Tired? Didn't you just wake up a few hours ago?"

"I've been unusually tired lately. I can't seem to get enough sleep."

"Hmm," Mara said. "Well, do you have any inclination to get over it?" 

"Huh?"

Mara sighed. "Luke refuses to spar with me. He says it's not good for someone in my condition. But I'm dying here, with nothing to do. Come spar with me. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two," she smirked.

Jaina rolled her eyes. "I'd love to, any other time. Maybe this evening."

Mara's countenance seemed to grow a little more serious. "I really think we ought to go do it now."

Something in her voice gave Jaina the impression that there was going to be more than sparring going on in that training room. Mara had something on her mind, and she meant to speak to Jaina about it. So, reluctantly, she pulled herself from the sheets and stood, stretching. "Okay. Give me five minutes to get ready."

Mara winked, all solemnity gone from her features as she turned to leave. "I'll see you in five, then." 

Jaina pulled her right arm up over her head and behind her back, tugging on the elbow in an attempt to loosen the constricted tricep. She rolled her neck from side to side, flexed her fingers, and dropped into a fighting stance.

Mara smiled, the muscles in her legs flexing as she shifted from foot to foot. "You seem tense, Jaina."

Jaina attacked experimentally, thrusting the heel of her hand upwards at the underside of Mara's jaw. Mara rolled with the punch, flipping onto her hands and kicking out at Jaina's chest. Jaina bent at the knees, leaning away from the attack. Mara's leg's sailed over her body, and then the older woman cartwheeled in the other direction.

Both Jedi came to their feet, again resuming defensive stances. "I get over it quick," Jaina grinned.

This time Mara moved first. Jaina saw the tensing in her left quad before the Force warned her, but she was too quick for Jaina to dodge. Her leg swung up in a high sweep, catching Jaina across the side of the head. She moved with blow, letting it roll her onto her side. Mara pounced on her, and Jaina blocked with her left forearm. With the other hand she grabbed her shoulder in a vice grip and attempted to roll her under her into a pin.

But Mara had after all been the Emperor's Hand, and such a move was no problem for her. Her legs wrapped around Jaina's knees and squeezed, holding them in a flex she couldn't get out of. Then it was just a matter of wrestling her onto her back and pinning her arms above her head.

By the time Jaina quit struggling both were panting, and Mara didn't look well. She released Jaina wordlessly, going to retrieve her water bottle and drinking ravenously. She proceeded to collapse against the wall, chest heaving.

Jaina sauntered tiredly to sit beside her. "You shouldn't push yourself, like that, Aunt Mara. It's not good for the baby."

Mara raised a red manicured eyebrow. "Someone sore over being beaten by a sick old lady?"

Jaina laughed. "You're hardly an old lady, and I think you just proved you're not too sick to kick my behind." 

Mara grinned roguishly. "I would have been upset if I hadn't. What are you, sixteen now?"

"Seventeen," Jain replied a bit stiffly.

"Ah."

"So...how is the baby?"

Mara smiled. "I regret having it while I have this illness, but not having it period. I love it so much already sometimes it takes my breath away."

"How many weeks are you?"

"Just five. You?"

Jaina did a double-take. "What?"

Mara's emerald eyes twinkled with mischief. "How many weeks along are you?"

Jaina paused, not sure she was registering her words. Finally she laughed shortly, more out of confusion than humor. "Mara, I'm not pregnant." 

Mara sighed. "I was hoping we wouldn't have to go through this. You can't hide it from me Jaina, you might as well tell me. I already know."

Jaina shook her head in incredulity. "Mara, I'm _not pregnant_."

The older Jedi narrowed her eyes at Jaina's statement. For a moment she just stared, and then her brows shot up with shock. "Oh gods. You don't know."

Jaina was really confused. "I don't know what you're talking about. What don't I know?"

Mara reached out to grasp Jaina's hand, then placed it over her abdomen. "Stretch out, honey, and feel your baby. It's growing inside you."

Still befuddled beyond words, Jaina reached out with confusion, touching her own organs. But inside was something she had never expected. A life, an entity separate from her own, yet so entangled within her own life force it would have been indiscernible had she not been looking for it. It was the thing she had felt in her dreams, the thing she had feared was somehow a hidden part of herself containing an evil she didn't want to see.

Her baby.

It made sense of a sudden, everything made sense. Why she had been so different lately. They were mood swings inherent to her changing hormones. Her body chemistry had been literally turned upside down. It was why she had been so prone to emotions and illness, vomiting in her nervousness. Morning sickness. It was why she had been so tired. It was why her muscles had ached and been stiff. It was why she had felt something growing in strength inside of her.

Because something was. 

Her baby.

Jag's baby.

Jaina felt ill, too ill to hold the meager breakfast she had consumed earlier. And so she retched, right there on the training room floor. Mara held her hair back, whispering soft comforting words as Jaina felt tears forming in her eyes. When she sat back up Mara wiped her face with a towel, then sat in silence as Jaina contemplated this new information.

"How could this have happened?" she whispered finally.

Mara laughed lightly. "If you don't know, then we really do have a problem."

Jaina gave her aunt a look completely lacking in humor. "We were so damn careful," she whispered.

Mara smiled sadly. "I know, Jaina. Things just happen some times." 

Jaina took a steadying breath. "But we're at _war_. I can't be having a baby now. I have to fight."

"You and I are in the same ship, Jaina. Only with me there's a chance either the baby or I or both of us won't make it to term." Mara's voice wavered as she spoke, and suddenly Jaina felt very selfish for being upset when Mara was in the state she was in.

She reached out to grip her aunt's hand. "You'll make it, Mara. You both will." She took ragged breath. "We'll help each other through this." 

Mara smiled. "That's really what I wanted to talk to you about. I never dreamed you didn't know you were pregnant. I just wanted to offer you my support. And ask you something."

"Shoot," Jaina said.

"Luke an I were talking, and it's been a long while since you've had formal Jedi training. Your skills have to be getting rusty. He wanted to train you while on this trip, but I said I wanted to do it. I didn't tell him it was because you were pregnant."

Understanding dawned on Jaina. "This is what this whole thing is about, isn't it?"

"It was, for Luke anyway. But I knew from the moment I saw you you were pregnant." 

"How?"

"Mainly because you look just how I felt a few weeks ago. And your Force signature is slightly different. Luke and your brothers are a little naive, and even if they noticed I'm sure they didn't think you were having a baby," she added at Jaina's alarmed look.

Jaina stretched out again, tentatively touching the place her child rested. It was warm and snug, full of life, even though it seemed terribly small. A feeling previously missing blossomed in Jaina's heart, a love so deep and fierce and protective she felt like curling into a ball around her center to keep it safe. Is this the feeling all mother's had? And how could she feel such deep emotion over something she only realized existed a few minutes before? It was baffling. The only things Jaina really gleaned from the experience, though, was an innate sense that it was a girl. It wasn't far enough along in its development to know for sure, but its spirit felt feminine to Jaina.

Jaina stood slowly, then extended a hand to Mara. The fact that she took it was a clear sign to her flagging health. "I need to tell Jag. But I want to wait till I can do it face-to-face. We should be reverting to realspace soon, and maybe I can coax him into coming over from the _Valorous_." 

Mara wrapped a comforting arm around her niece's shoulders. "I'm sure he will. But you never answered my question about your Jedi training. Is it all right if we train together for a while?" 

Jaina smiled genuinely. "I would love that, Aunt Mara." 


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

As the _Valorous_ reverted to realspace, Jag realized with a start that the Calcol system was not empty as it should have been. Hanging over the planet was a medium-sized Yuuzhan Vong cruiser, looking tentative even in its barbarity. Despite the fact it was clearly outnumbered, it made no move to escape, or attack for that matter. It seemed perfectly content to cling to the planet's atmosphere ring, paying them no mind. Jag scowled, and motioned to his communications officer. "Get me General Fel on the _Roughshod_."

A few seconds later the holoprojector produced a perfectly miniature image of his wife. She wasn't dressed in uniform as she should be, but wore a smile a mile long. "Jag!" she exclaimed, ignoring protocol.

"Did you see the Yuuzhan Vong ship?" he began without preamble.

Her exuberance didn't fade. "I think it'll jump before we ever get there."

He shook his head. "It would have already done so if that was its intentions." 

Jaina took on a more thoughtful look. "I bet it's waiting on something."

"Something on the ground? Or are we sitting in the middle of an ambush?"

Jaina closed her eyes, and Jag knew she was searching the Force for answers. Finally she opened them and shook her head. "I don't feel any danger. The surface is my guess."

"I'll send some people to go check it out."

"Okay. We'll block their exit vector, in case it's something important. And Jag?"

"Yes?" he said, his hand hovering over the off switch.

She smiled sweetly. "I kind of need to talk to you about something. After this is over could you maybe come over to the _Roughshod_?"

Jag repressed a frown. The tentativeness in her voice had not been lost on him. Something was up. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she assured him. "I just need to talk to you about something. Important."

Jag ran a hand over his face. "Uh, okay. I'll go with the search party down to the surface, and have them take me over there on the way back."

"All right. Be careful. I love you."

Jag did smile then. "I will. I love you too." 

They faced no resistance on the descent into atmosphere. The cruiser made no move to attack. In fact, it seemed completely focused on the surface. Something funny was going on. It was the first time Jag could remember the Yuuzhan Vong not being completely on the offensive.

"Are there any large areas of activity on the surface?" Jag asked as they soared through the cloud-cover.

"In the northern hemisphere, General. Our scanners are picking up a single ship and over two thousand lifeforms."

"Take us there," Jag instructed.

Calcol was a flat planet, with little to no mountains or trees. It was one huge sprawling grassland that stretched far over the horizon. There was one ocean and small seas that dotted the surface, but other than that there was no break in the lea. Because of this the hulking Vong transport was easily spotted far into the distance. It was a ship like Jag had never seen before, almost resembling a cross between a huge worm and a Tatooine dewback without legs. "Get us in close," Jag instructed.

As they drew neared other features became evident. There were thousands of figures, moving slowly, being herded into the ship. The Imperial pilot pulled them into a flyover, and Jag suddenly realized what they were.

Slaves. Thousands of coral implanted slaves.

Jag winced, hating the Yuuzhan Vong for doing that to his fellow sentient beings. He had to stop them. But how, at least without killing as many as he saved in the process? 

"General?" the pilot asked.

Jag wracked his brain for an answer. "Put down," he said finally. "They don't seem to be very interested in us, just in keeping us from retaking the slaves. Maybe on the ground I'll be able to think of something else." 

They landed the dropship a hundred meters away from the edge of the parade, close enough that they could make out the individual humanoids being herded aboard the slave ship. The Vong watched them nervously, but instead of attacking sped up the loading of the cruiser. They knew this was a fight they couldn't win. Even though there were thousands of slaves, there were no more than a handful of warriors, and those were pitifully armed. Jag and his troops had a heavily armed transport and a excess of heavy artillery.

But being out numbered had never stopped them before. What was stopping them now? The only thing Jag could think of was that they had been given specific orders to get as many slaves off-planet as possible before being intercepted. That was the function of the planet and why Jag had come, after all. Before the Ithor incident he had been trying to stop the slave trade, and his last lead had taken him here, or would have had his time not been cut short. Calcol must have been little more than a stop-over, a place where the slave were implanted then sent to places where they were more needed.

Jag motioned for the stormtrooper at his right to hand him the comlink. He clicked twice then said, "_Roughshod_ do you copy?"

A few seconds later a male voice came back. "We're here, General." 

"Let me speak to General Fel."

"On moment, please."

Jag waited impatiently. Finally, "Jag, are you okay?"

"It's a slave transport, just like I thought. We could take it out, but that would kill as many as we could save. Do you think you could disable it in space?"

There was a pause. Then, "Probably. You wanna chance it?"

"I don't see any other options. We'll stay here and keep an eye on them until they lift off."

"Copy," and then she was gone.

"Hand me those microbinoculars," Jag said to the same trooper. The instrument was passed to him, and he raised them to his eyes, scanning the crowd.

Most had a faraway look in their eyes, not registering what was going on around them. They moved stiffly, not in control of themselves. The Vong prodded their filthy half-clothed bodies with amphistaffs, hurrying them aboard. Jag scowled, focusing in on one of the warriors. He was obviously of a low rank, his body lacking more than two or three tattoos and scars. Beside him was a human slave, a male in his lat twenties or early thirties. He was covered in dirt and filth, coral implant protruding from his back and neck.

A spark of recognition gripped Jag in a vice, and his hands tightened frighteningly around the microbinoculars. He twisted the lens, zooming in on the figure. At that same moment the man turned, putting his face fully in Jag's view. Jag's heart stopped for a full three seconds he was sure before reality settled itself in his gut.

The microbinoculars dropped from numb hands to the ground, clattering in the dirt. They went unnoticed by Jag, his brain still overloaded by the sight he had just seen. A single word escaped him in a shuddering breath. 

"Chak."

He trembled, shaking himself from the chill overcoming him. He turned quickly to the same stormtrooper. "Give me the comlink."

"Jaina," he said softly, unable to keep the quaver from his voice.

A few seconds later she answered him. "Jag?"

"Jaina, you can't let that transport getaway. This is very _very_ important. Keep it in system."

"Why?" she asked, perplexed.

Fear of somehow being mistaken stopped him from admitting the truth. He wanted to see him, touch him, talk to him before he admitted what he had seen. "Just do it."

Jaina ran an affectionate had over her abdomen. Now that the truth had been learned it was literally all she was capable of thinking about. Every minute or so she would reach out and touch it with the Force, just to reassure herself it was there.

A baby. What a concept. Part of her balked at the idea of her having a child of her own, she was too young. And besides, _Jaina_ and _baby_ just didn't go together. But so it was. And Jaina had never been happier. It wasn't just the child itself that she loved, but the whole idea of carrying Jag's child. This baby was physical manifestation of their love, a lasting testament and legacy. Even if one of them died their love was forever branded into the Force, having created a life that was half of each of them. It was a humbling and awe-inspiring thought.

Jaina caught her Uncle Luke staring at her, and she self-consciously removed her hand from the place right above the line of her belt. "Has the Vong slaveship lifted off yet?" she asked, trying to draw attention away from herself.

"No, but sensor readouts show increased gravatic pull. I think its powering up," he answered.

Jaina nodded, her mind already returning the warm spot of life growing inside her. It was a girl, that she knew innately. The spirit was there, and she just knew. She could also tell by how the developing mind easily registered her mental touch that she was Force-sensitive. Pride swelled inside Jaina, knowing that was one part of her that her daughter had inherited. The Jedi gift had been passed on, and that was one thing they would always share.

Jaina was also saddened, knowing Jag would never have that with their daughter. That connection was lost to him, and she hated that he would never experience what she did.

But the Force didn't always mean a greater connection. Jaina had related much more to her own father who was also Force-blind than to her Jedi mother. Jaina and Han had had so much more in common, and their bond ran twice as deep, as his sacrifice was evidence to.

It hit Jaina then, a deep sense of realization that couldn't be denied. Han had given her so much, literally giving her life twice. And in that he had also given her daughter a chance at life as well. It only seemed fitting he should be an integral part of her life. What could be more fitting than to let this baby be his namesake?

Jaina thought for a second, then smiled. _Hanna_. It fit.

Her reverie was interrupted by a blaring claxon on the bridge. "Report!" she snapped.

"The Yuuzhan Vong frigate above the planet has jumped to hyperspace, General. The slaveship should be breaking atmosphere any second," Captain Onan replied.

"Take us in," she ordered.

"Jaina," Luke's voice said softly behind her, "if the other ship jumped so close to atmosphere the other one will be able to too. We'll never make it."

Jaina looked out the viewport, and knew he was right. But she had to try. "Full speed," she instructed.

"General, at full speed we may not be able to pull up soon enough to miss the planet," Onan said.

Jaina cursed, violently. "Just get us there as quick as possible without smashing us against the planet!" Jag had said to keep it in system at all costs. What could be so important? "Do we have sufficient tractor beams to keep it here, at least until we can get there?"

A techie in the sensor well began typing furiously at a computer, and then shook his head a negative. Jaina cursed again, and swung her chair around to face her Aunt and Uncle. "Any tricks from the old days you can impart?"

Mara snickered. "I never ran one of these things, I was always behind the scenes."

Luke shook his head sadly. "I was always in a cockpit. Strategy wasn't my job."

Jaina swung angrily back to the viewport. "I would say just let it slide if Jag hadn't told me specifically to make sure it didn't get loose. But what do I do in this situation?"

Just then the ship appeared, having broken atmosphere and gunning hard for deep space. Jaina let out a shuddering breath. "Fire at will."

"Fire?" Onan asked.

Jaina sent him a harsh glare. "That's what I said! Maybe it'll at least slow them down."

The big guns of the _Roughshod_ opened up, sending green streaks of light sailing towards the Vong cruiser, pummeling it with laserfire. It didn't slow, putting all its energy into escaping to hyperspace. Jaina gripped the arms of her command chair until her knuckles turned white, watching the vessel slowly inch farther and farther out of her grasp. In the blink of an eye it was gone.

Jaina let her head hang with despair. She had failed him. In what, she wasn't sure, but the failure hung heavy in her chest anyway.

Even though she knew he would inevitably be disappointed, Jaina couldn't keep the smile from her face as Jag descended the boarding ramp. She knew he had know way of knowing about their baby, but somehow it just seemed like he should share her exuberance. But as she saw his face she realized with disappointment that that was obviously not the case.

He looked despondent, and more than a little angry. Jaina's first instinct had been to run and embrace him, but she shied from the coolness in his gaze. Tentatively she reached out to place a comforting hand on his forearm. "I'm so sorry, Jag. I did everything I could." Jaina still wasn't sure what she was sorry for, but the look on his face was enough to make anyone sorry.

He looked down into her eyes, and she could see the war going on behind his gaze. He didn't want to be angry with her, and yet couldn't abandon the emotion completely. "I..." he began, but stopped, looking down at the ground. Jaina wondered uneasily at what had been so important about that ship.

"Talk to me, Jag," she said with a constricted throat.

"Chak," he said softly, and then seemed to be able to say no more. Finally he gathered himself and finished. "He was on that ship. He's alive. And he was on that ship."

Jaina felt as if someone had just shoved a vibroblade through her gut and twisted it savagely. "I thought he was dead," she managed at long last.

"I saw him," was his only reply. Jaina knew him well enough to know he was immune as all other Chiss to flights of fancy, and had held out no hopes for his brother's life. If he said it was Chak on that ship than it was. Knowing not what else to do, she pulled him into her embrace, trying to offer what comfort she could. His muscles were tense under the thin uniform, and she clearly read the unspoken signal. _You let him get away_.

She pulled away, trying to reign in her emotions. She had to keep reminding herself how she would be acting had it been Jacen or Anakin on that ship. Considering, he was behaving remarkably well. "I am so sorry Jag. I didn't know. We'll...we'll find him. We'll get him back."

Jag pulled away, looking more flustered than she could ever remember seeing him. "How? It took me three months just to find this way station." 

Jaina shook her head. "I don't know. But we will. I'll help you. We'll go after him. Now."

At this there was a noise behind them, and Jaina remembered Mara and Luke. From the Force it became apparent that Mara was about to object. Jaina shouldn't be going hand to hand with any sort of enemy—let alone a Yuuzhan Vong warrior—in her condition. Jaina threw her a fierce look, one so full of grave warning it silenced the Jedi. Mara still didn't look happy, but kept her mouth shut. Jaina turned back to Jag.

"I promise, Jag, I'll do everything I can to help you find him."

Jag said nothing, but his countenance softened minutely. Taking it as a good sign, Jaina slid back into his arms, burying her face in his chest. This wasn't how she wanted to tell him about Hanna. It should be a special moment, one when there was nothing between them but love. And Jaina didn't see that happening until Chak was safely out of Yuuzhan Vong hands. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Jag watched with concern as Jaina turned a sickly shade of green, leaped from her chair and ran to the fresher and retched. He stood, going cautiously to stand at the door. Her hands trembled as she wiped her mouth with a towel and then rinsed it with water. "Jaina, are you okay?"

She smiled weakly, her lips the same pale shade as her face. "I'll live."

"What's wrong?"

She waved him off. "I think I have a virus or something."

Usually he would have made a greater attempt to comfort her, but Jag still hadn't rid himself of all the bitterness, even though his head kept telling him over and over again that it was illogical. If she couldn't save him, then she just couldn't. It wasn't as if she had deliberately let the ship carrying his brother get away.

So he just nodded and went back to the roomy hold of the _Jade Sabre_. Luke looked at him quizzically, and Mara scowled. "Is she okay?" Luke questioned. "What happened?"

Jag shrugged and sat back down. "She says it's a virus."

"Does she need help going into a healing trance?" Mara asked anxiously. Then, "Nevermind, I'll go help her." She jumped quickly from her chair and ran back to the room he and Jaina shared.

"Something funny's going on between those two," Jag mused into the silence that followed.

Luke nodded. "Mara's hiding something from me, which is something she's never done. When I ask her about it she says its not her secret to tell."

Jag looked back to the hatch where Mara had disappeared. "Jaina's acted weird ever since we left, too. She keeps getting this faraway looks. And she's been so..._emotional_. Not like herself at all."

Luke's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and then shot open as if with a sudden revelation. "Mara!"

Mara found Jaina curled on her side on the bed, her skin a pasty white, glistening with sweat. She sat down on the edge of the bunk and rested a troubled hand on her forearm. "Are you all right, Jaina?" she asked. Compassion was new to Mara, and she wasn't sure how to go about trying to comfort someone. She supposed she would just have to wing it. When Jaina made no response she said, "You should tell him, honey."

Jaina shook her head emphatically. "Not until we find Chak."

"What if you _never_ find him? What about when you start showing? And Jag's not a stupid man, Jaina. He's going to figure it out eventually."

"You don't understand," Jaina said. "It's my fault Chak's not safe now. Jag will never forgive me until we find him."

Mara's countenance became suddenly icy. "Did he say that to you?" she hissed softly.

"No," Jaina sniffed. "No. I...I just know."

Mara chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "Is it that Jag won't forgive you, or that you won't forgive yourself?" 

Before she could respond Luke's voice echoed loudly from the hold. "Mara!"

Mara scowled in the direction of the voice. "What?"

"Mara, I need to talk to you right now." 

"Go on," Jaina whispered. She added a small encouraging smile to the gesture. "I'll be fine."

Mara gave her shoulder a final squeeze and stood. When she entered the hold Jag still sat on the small couch looking confused, but Luke was pacing the room, hands clasped behind his back. As soon as she stepped through the hatch he stopped pacing and looked at her. _Is she pregnant?_

_What tipped you off?_ Mara thought back sardonically.

_Mara, this is serious! Is she pregnant?_

Mara took a deep breathe. _Yes._

Luke started pacing again. _She's pregnant and she didn't tell him? Not only that, but she's planning on taking on dozens of Yuuzhan Vong in hand-to-hand? That's insane, Mara!_

_I know. She thinks it's her fault Jag lost his brother. She refuses to tell him until she gets him back._

"We have to do something," Luke said out loud.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" Jag questioned with more than a little irritation.

"Why don't you ask Jaina?" Mara said stiffly.

Jag stood. "Maybe I will."

Jag stood nervously over their temporary bed, wondering how they had gotten there. It seemed less than a week ago his father had told him they were sending the daughter of a princess from the New Republic and that he had to marry her. He had been so angry at Soontir then.

And then he had seen Jaina. He would always remember that night. It wasn't hard to tell her apart from the crowd of Chiss, but she had not been anything like he had expected. Her youth had struck him first, and then the contrasting matureness in her gaze. She was gorgeous, to be sure, but he hadn't really seen the beauty in her until he had gotten that first look into her eyes. And from then on, he had been hooked. 

Sure, he hadn't let himself feel the emotion created then for a long time, but it had been there. The longer he was around her the deeper it grew.

So much had happened since then. But he had known through it all that no matter what else happened, she would be there to face it with him. Just like she was now. She had no emotional stake in Chak's fate, but she fought for his freedom because he was Jag's brother, and hers through him. After hearing he was alive, she had promptly drafted Luke and Mara into taking them on the search and rescue mission. No thought to the fact that they could lose their positions in the Navy, or that two Star Destroyers were now in the care of a mere captain. She had put him first.

It was time for him to do the same.

He lay down on the bed beside her, pulling her against his chest. He felt guilty for being angry with her the past few days, and the easiest way to remedy that was to show her how much he really appreciated her. She stiffened in his embrace, as if surprised by his presence. Jag kissed the back of her neck softly. "I'm sorry," is all he said.

"For what?" she questioned.

He sighed. "For the past few days. I'm sorry. I love you, Jaina."

She seemed to soften a little, and let his arms slide the rest of the way around her. "I know," said. "And I love you too."

Jag buried his face in her hair, wondering when the last time they had just been satisfied with each other's presence had been. "Jaina," he began softly, "you're aunt and uncle are acting like something's wrong. I don't like the idea of something they know about you I don't." 

Jaina shifted, sighing deeply. "Don't worry about it, Jag." 

Jag pushed himself up on one arm and turned her over to face him. "Tell me, Jaina."

Jaina looked as if she was warring within herself, not sure whether to give in or hold firm. "If I tell you you'll make us go back," she said finally.

"Tell me."

She rolled over, turning her back to him. After a few minutes silence she said in a tone barely above a whisper, "I'm pregnant."

Jag blinked a few times, unsure of what she had just said. He had heard the words but his brain refused to recognize them. "What?" he stuttered.

She curled further into herself. "I'm pregnant," she said again.

"I...I don't think I understand," he said, shaking his head. What had she said again?

She rolled over, suddenly looking angry. "What about 'we're going to have a baby' do you not understand?"

It hit him then, and suddenly he had to lay down. "A—a—a baby?" 

Jaina sat up on the mattress, folding her legs under her. "A daughter."

Jag looked over at her. A baby. _Their_ baby. A child that was part of both of them, a product of their love. As he saw the hopeful look in her murky brown eyes a sudden heat burned in his chest, a flowering of so many amazing emotions he wasn't sure which was greatest. "Oh gods," he whispered. "That's...that's wonderful!"

He was on his feet with Jaina in his arms before he ever realized he had moved. "A baby!" he exclaimed. She laughed delightedly, pulling him into a kiss. He responded enthusiastically, his heart pounding so loud in his chest he was sure even Luke and Mara could hear it. Jag finally set her back down on the ground, then dropped himself onto his knees. He wrapped his arms around her torso and kissed the spot above her belt buckle. Her fingers ran lovingly through his hair, and he looked up into her smiling face. "That's the best thing I've heard in a long time."

Jaina laughed again, and pulled him to his feet. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that." 

He pulled the knuckles of her hand up to his lips. "I think I have an inkling."

Some of the ebullience faded from her eyes. "So you're not mad?"

Jag frowned in confusion. "Why would I be mad?"

She pulled her hands away from him nervously. "Because I didn't tell you sooner and now we're on our way to complete a highly dangerous search-and-rescue mission," she winced.

Jag felt some of the blood drain from his face. He turned away from her, bringing his hand up to his suddenly clammy brow. Did she actually expect him to put his brother before the safety of her and their unborn daughter? She had given up everything for a life with him. Did she expect him to do any less? No, he wouldn't allow it. He spun around, trying to keep his temper from getting the best of him. "When were you planning on telling me this, exactly?"

Her grimace deepened. "After we found Chak."

"What if one of us had _died_, Jaina? Did you ever think about that? I could have lost you and the baby both, or she might never have known her father!"

"Hanna," Jaina said softly.

"What?" Jag asked, confused.

Jaina fidgeted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Her name is Hanna." 

Jag was stunned. "You already named her? You named her _before you even told me_?!"

Jaina stood quickly and grabbed his forearms in both of hers. Her expression was pleading as she spoke. "I only found out right before you told me about Chak. And you were so angry...I didn't want to tell you something so wonderful when you were angry with me."

Jag's guilt returned in full force. He pulled her close again, unable to find words sufficient. "I don't know what to tell you, Jaina. I'm sorry. So sorry. I love you so much."

She laid her head thankfully against his chest. "I'm sorry too. I just got so excited when I found out, and I wanted to do something for my dad."

_Her dad?_ he thought. What did Han have to do with it? And then he got it. Hanna. Jag pulled her a little closer. "I understand. If you want to name her Hanna, then we'll name her Hanna."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you."

When they emerged arm in arm, a very thankful expression unfolded over Mara's face. "Did you tell him?"

Jaina nodded, smiling. "We're going to name her Hanna."

Luke's smile was sad. "I think Han would have liked that."

Jaina beamed.

"Now the question is, what are we going to do with you two," Luke continued.

Jag frowned. "What did _I_ do?"

Luke shook his head and pointed at the two women. "_Them_ two." 

Mara looked aghast. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You kept this secret too. And you can't possibly think now that I know you're _both_ pregnant that I'm going to continue with this mission. I thought we were going to have two active Jedi on this trip, but with both of you out of commission I'm not going anywhere."

Mara planted her hands defiantly on her hips. "Who says I'm out of commission?"

"I do," Luke returned in the same tone. "If it was just the disease I would say it was your body to do with as you wish, but that's my child your carrying. I have just as much stake in your health as you do."

"It's okay," Jag said to Mara, "I want to turn back anyway. There are too many factor against us for this to be a sane trip."

Jaina looked distraught. "Then what are we going to do about Chak?"

Jag shook his head slowly. "I know he's out there now, and that he's alive. I'm not going give up on him."

Jaina felt her throat constrict as she realized what he was saying. "You want to go on without me." It was not a question.

Jag studied the floor intently. "I have to, Jaina. Can't you see? I can't give up on him."

"I won't let you do this. Going out there by yourself is suicide, Jag!" she practically screamed.

Jag took her hand comfortingly. "You misunderstand me. I know enough to know that trying to do something like we were intending to do here is irrational. I just want to step up the effort I had before Ithor. I _am_ going to find that main transaction post, and I will find him."

Jaina was gaining some of her defiance back. "So you have this all figured out, huh? Tell me, what am I going to be doing while you're gallivanting across the galaxy?"

Jag's confidence didn't waver. "I want to request that Pellaeon give you the Bastion system."

Jaina was shocked. "Bastion? Nothing ever happens there! And besides, that's where the _Chimaera_ is stationed."

"Exactly," Jag smiled. "I know the Admiral's just been itching for a chance to get out into the action." 

Jaina scowled deeply. "And I have no choice in this?" 

Jag's expression matched her own in fierceness. "You always have a choice. I'm not your master. But, please Jaina, I love you. Do you not know how it would kill me if anything happened to you and Hanna? Can't you do this for me? Please."

Jaina felt suddenly vulnerable, and remembered Luke and Mara who had been listening the whole time while attempting to be inconspicuous. If they had not been there she would have broken down in tears. _It's just the hormones_, she reminded herself. Hearing Jag's pleadings reminded her of those terrible moments over Ithor when she had thought him lost to her forever. She never wanted to cause him that kind of torment, which would be twofold now that she was carrying his child.

Jaina looked at the floor and sighed. "If that's what you want, then that's what I'll do."

Before he could reply Mara turned a snap retort on Luke. "I hope you don't plan on doing something like that to me."

"Like I could make you," Luke snorted.

"Mara," Jaina interjected, "I know it's probably not what you want, but it would be so much easier on me if you would come along. And you said that you would help with the rest of my training, remember? And we said we would help each other through this."

Mara looked around uncertainly. "I don't know Jaina. I was an Imperial once, and let's just say I don't feel like walking that road again."

"You wouldn't have to join," Luke said, eagerly jumping at the opportunity. "You would just be helping her with her training. It would go along perfect with the other things we planned."

"What have you planned?" Jaina asked.

"We wanted to interject the Jedi into the war effort," Mara explained.

Luke turned to Jag. "We could send Jedi with your task force. They would a great asset in helping to sniff out the slave trade."

Jag's eyes brightened at the suggestion. "How many can you spare and how soon can they get here?"


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

The words on the datapad swam before her tired eyes, and Jaina leaned over her desk to rest her head on her forearm. She hated paperwork. And it seemed that's all she had been doing lately. Reports, reports, and more reports. That, and sit pointlessly on the bridge while her staff worked and stare at Bastion, pretending she was actually helping somehow. She hated this.

Perhaps it was the thought that it was all she would been doing for the next eight months, but it was still torturous. She had half a mind to load all of her already meager responsibilities onto a subordinate and spend her days in the training room with Mara.

That was one aspect of the 'maternity lockdown' as Jaina and Mara had come to jokingly call it that had both succeeded and failed. It seemed with Mara there Luke had been unable to stay away, and Mara unable to stay period. She would take one-day jaunts to neighboring systems to return that night exhausted. Jaina cautioned her that she needed to conserve her energy, but she had said she had never been good at staying in one place too long. Jaina had simply shaken her head and said no more. 

But the visits from Luke had persisted in their frequency until Mara had to threaten him to take care of the Jedi or she would go on vacation without telling him where. The whole episode had been rather comical, but Jaina had found humor almost intangible lately. Whether it was the hormones, Jag's absence, or the fact she was trapped on a Star Destroyer with nothing to do, she wasn't sure. But still she was bored out of her skull and had trouble seeing things in a positive light.

Except for Hanna. Sensing her daughter's daily growth and development was nothing short of a phenomenon for Jaina. It was as if the process of life was unfolding before her very eyes, flourishing in its summer. Not only physically, but spiritually. Her Force-sense increased in leaps and bounds, matching her body's ontogeny step for step. It was miraculous to wake up each morning and find what had happened to her child overnight. Fingers, toes, ears, organs...the whole experience of pregnancy was breathtaking.

In this she enjoyed having Mara as company the most. Her child—who had been identified as a son—was progressing as any normal fetus would despite his mother's illness. Mara spent hours a day devoting her sole attention to warding off the virus from her reproductive system and sending what nourishment she had to the placenta. It put a visible strain on Mara's own health, but it was a sacrifice Jaina could well understand. The thought of anything threatening Hanna was enough to evoke such ferocity in Jaina it scared her sometimes.

Light, almost imperceptible footsteps trained in the art of espionage echoed softly off the deck behind Jaina. She had felt Mara's approach long before then, but didn't turn until her aunt was directly behind her. She smiled at the older woman, but it was somewhat dampered by the sight of her. Her hair was limp and her skin pasty, and the lines around her mouth and eyes had grown more pronounced in the past few weeks. Jaina's heart ached and a knot formed in her throat but she swallowed quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice Jaina's distress. "What brings you to this side of the ship?"

Mara smiled tightly. "I'm bored, what else? But you and Luke threw such a fit last time I went off somewhere I thought better of it. So I came here to take you along."

Jaina shook her head. "You know my place is here."

"On the ship, yes. But they don't need you up here. You're just a figurehead." Jaina had know that of course, but hearing it spoken so straightforwardly made her wince. "Come spar with me, or something. I'm going to go stir crazy if you don't."

Jaina smiled at Mara's brutal honesty. There was something appealing about the unadulterated truth she presented, and Jaina could do nothing but appreciate it. "All right. But only because you asked so nicely." 

They never made it to the sparring room. Half way there Mara convinced Jaina to go to the surface shopping with her. Her excuse was that they needed to start shopping for the babies. It was too tempting an offer to pass up, even for duty-bound Jaina.

They took the _Jade Sabre_ down into the city, and from there walked to a small shop filled with every imaginable infant care product imaginable. "I can't believe they actually expect _us_ to believe a baby could possible need this much stuff," Mara commented as she examined a rack covered in tiny clothes.

Jaina smiled. "How do you know they don't?" 

Mara gave her a funny look. "How can something so small need more clothes than me?"

Jaina shrugged. "I don't know. I've never had a kid before. What are we supposed to buy?" 

Mara chewed on her lower lip. "Well...it'll probably need somewhere to sleep. We should buy a crib."

Her face blossomed at the suggestion. "Oh, a baby bed."

They searched the store over before each finding something suitable. Mara's was a light blue crib with soft sculpted wooden side rails and repulsorlifts. She had chosen it within five minutes and spent the rest of the time helping Jaina. She had finally decided on a white oval shaped bassinet almost resembling an egg cut lengthwise with soft purple cushioning covering the inside.

She felt a little guilty doing the shopping without Jag, but what was to be done? She couldn't very well wait until he came back before buying anything. There would just be some things he couldn't partake in, and Jaina had to resign herself to that.

She wondered if he thought of her as much as she did him. She was constantly worrying over how he was doing and whether or not he was growing any closer to finding his brother. His messages thus far had been short and to the point, mostly telling how he loved her and that he wished he was there with her. Little was said about what was actually going on. Jaina supposed he was too busy.

If standing at full height, the water would have been somewhere around Jag's upper chest. But as it was, he slid low under the surface, just letting his eyes skim the filmy water. Special blasters had been designed for just such an occasion. They were built with tiny floaters under the bottom, letting them buoy without any effort on Jag's part. His hand fingered the trigger nervously, but he was careful to make no swift movements that could cause ripples, giving away their position.

Slowly he turned his head to observe the rest of his outfit. Stormtroopers waded silently through the swamp, their white armor camouflaged a matte brown-green. Above him the long aimless branches of an enormous willow dropped onto the surface of the water, hiding them behind a veil of pale green. To his right Jaina's brother Anakin crouched on a protruding root, as still as stone. His only movement was a slight flickering of his fingertips as he caressed the hilt of his lightsaber. Ice blue eyes scanned the curtain of the willow branches, searching for something Jag couldn't see.

This was a mission whose success was vital. Here was where the information Jag had been searching for lay. If he could get to that grotto without being caught—

But no, that was impossible. The Vong had been alerted early to the Imperial presence on Ramella and now Jag and his strike team were the ones being hunted. Having Anakin and the other Jedi along was the only godsend. Even though the Yuuzhan Vong were impervious to the Force, the Jedi reflexes and intuition were unmatched. If he made it out alive, Jag would need to remember to thank Luke again for his help.

A movement from Anakin caught Jag's eye. Anakin brought one hand up to his lips, calling for continued silence. Then he pointed upwards. Jag's trigger finger twitched, then he nodded slowly. Anakin leaped noiselessly from his perch onto a higher branch and silently made his way up the rest of the tree. Reconnoitering, Jag supposed. He turned his sights back to the area outside his vision. With painstaking slowness he inched to the edge of the veil and poked the end of his blaster through it. It opened a tiny window for him to peer through.

Outside was nothing but the roots, branches and trunks of other trees like the one he was taking refuge under. At least at first glance. But after staring for at least five minutes he noticed something. A movement under the bulge of a root, a ripple of water. Jag's finger twitched again. Without telling anyone where he was going, Jag slipped under the murky swamp water and moved outside the safety of his group. Holding his breath, he continued on for perhaps twenty meters before barely breaking the surface.

Luckily he came up under the shade of another tree. Wiping a hand over his hair Jag looked around. He waded warily through the cover of the branches, searching for the spot he had seen the movement. He stopped slowly when he saw it, keeping his blaster trained on the spot. Cautiously, he approached. There was no sign of life as he wept towards his target, be that only increased his anxiousness. He had seen something. Now he just needed to kill it before it saw him.

Or perhaps there was a better way. They had thus far been unsuccessful in capturing a live Yuuzhan Vong. It would be a tremendous victory if he somehow could. But the problem was they had proved to be infuriatingly resistant to stun bolts. The best course of action would probably be to set his power setting as low as possible and shoot to injure instead of kill. With a flick of his wrist he pulled back on the small lever, dialing it all the way back. Jag could only think afterwards that it had been the click of the device that had given him away.

A being shot from the water almost beneath him, head writhing in what appeared to Jag to be snakes. Intellectually, he knew it was the headdress of a Shaper, but at the time such things did not occur to him. The female Vong hissed and reached for his throat as a war cry leaped from its lips. "_Do'roik Vong pratte!_"

Before Jag could even think to fire she was on him, driving him under the surface. Sharp fingernails akin to talons sunk into the front of his uniform. They ripped open his shirt, searching for the flesh within. Once there they had no trouble gouging deep into his pectorals, tearing away the fibers. Jag screamed, but it did nothing more than give him a mouthful of water. The claws continued their search, hunting for the vulnerable cartilage between his ribs. The found purchase there, penetrating his rib cage and wrapping around the rib itself. Her intent became clear then. She was literally going to rip open his chest cavity.

Fear stuck in his throat and Jag remembered his blaster. Without thought or emotion he shoved the business end of the weapon under the torso armor and fire twice. Her muscles slackened and unheeding Jag ripped her fingers out of his flesh. He screamed as he did so, surfacing. He hadn't realized until he took his first breath that his lungs had been burning.

The shaper floated beside him in a pool of their intermingled blood, diluted in the swamp. His breathing was labored, his chest spitting hot blood. He grabbed the wound, wondering how it was possible to staunch such a wound in his position. For the moment it didn't hurt as bad as it inevitably would, his adrenaline was still pumping. He needed to act before it slackened.

Jag waded to the floating shaper, searching for any sign of life. Surprisingly, her pulse was still strong. Knowing what he had to do, Jag threw the body over his shoulder and loudly sloshed into the open, heedless of the danger. He had made it half way back to his company when Anakin appeared in front of him, having swam out into the open. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, eying Jag's wound and the limp shaper. Wordlessly Jag tossed the body to him.

"Carry this," he instructed as he struggled the rest of the way back. The hanging branches parted for him, stormtrooper faces peeking out and helping him inside. It seemed with every beat of his heart the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain increasing. The spurting from his chest cavity did nothing to assuage this. He was led to a root and lifted up onto it. Anakin appeared over him, looking concerned as he pulled away the remaining shreds of his uniform.

"What the hell happened to you?" 

Jag winced as fingers brushed his wound. "I saw her. Someone had to go get her."

"You didn't even tell anyone!" Anakin admonished. He was obviously drawing on the Force, because when he touched the gash the pain momentarily eased. "I should probably put you in a healing trance," he muttered.

Jag stubbornly shook his head. "Just stitch me up."

Anakin scowled at him. "You have some serious muscle damage here, Jag." 

Jag gritted his teeth. "The shaper. Will she live?" 

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Who gives a kriff?"

"I do! I almost died so we could have a live captive. You keep her alive, damn it!"

For a moment he thought Anakin might object, then he nodded minutely. "Commander  
Eliab, get those medics on the shaper. Make sure she lives, at all costs."

"What about Jag?" he asked.

"I'll take care of that," Anakin said. "Just make sure she lives."

"Unserstood, Sir." 

Anakin smirked, and Jag supposed it was at being called 'sir' by someone almost ten years his senior. But it was hard for Jag to think of Anakin as being that young sometimes, too. He was so mature in thinking and appearance. How old was he anyway? Fourteen? No more than fifteen, Jag was sure. Damn it, he was just a child.

"Okay, Jag," he said, "I'm not the healer in the family."

"Jacen," Jag muttered.

Anakin smiled in a way that made him look heartbreakingly like Jaina. "Yeah, Jaina's no miracle-worker either." Jag smiled in silent disagreement, but let him continue. "But I can do my best. I have to tell you, this would work a lot better if you would just let me put you in a healing trance."

"No time," he gritted.

"I know, that's what you say. So just try to relax and think about healing things. Uncle Luke said that helps a lot of times."

Jag nodded and closed his eyes. An image of Jaina rose to the surface of his mind's eye. He saw her in the darkness of the night, hair spilled over the pillow, blissfully asleep. Her chest rose and fell lightly and soft breath fell from slightly parted lips. Jag's heart raced at the thought. His mid began to drift further, but suddenly he was jerked back to consciousness. 

"Alright, I stopped the internal bleeding and got your skin to graft back together, but I don't have the time or energy to repair the muscle damage right now."

Jag looked down at his chest, and sure enough the cuts were gone. It still hurt like nothing else, but the pain he could handle. "Thank you," he said, sitting up. 

Anakin dropped back down into the water, which came up almost to his chin. "No problem. Just next time, try not think about having sex with my sister. Really gross."

Jag just laughed as he pulled on a new tunic and prepared for the coming escape.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

It had taken almost an hour to decide whether or not to proceed. Jag himself was not sure which course of action was best. Part of him wanted to go on, find the grotto and the possibility of locating his brother. But the rational part of him that had been raised by the Chiss wondered if it would not be better to take their captive and run. They could most likely get more intel from her than anything else they could find. Still it was a big if. Either way he went there was a possibility of serious loss.

"If we could convince the shaper to give us what we need it would be tens times worth anything we could find in the basal," Anakin had finally voiced. Deciding he was right, they had tossed caution aside for speed and made a hasty retreat back to their ships and into space. Once back on the _Valorous_ the real debate began. What were they going to do with her?

"She is sedated, right?" Jag asked the Emdee droid. He and Anakin stood over the metal examining table she had been placed on. The room was sealed and secluded deep in the heart of the ship, making escape unlikely. The shaper herself had been restrained, clasps holding down her limbs and head. It might have seemed overcautious to some, but in this again Jag's Chiss training took part. You could never be too careful.

"Yes, Sir," the droid replied.

Anakin walked slowly around the table, arms folded over chest, eyes never leaving the sleeping enemy. "Perhaps we should wake her up, then."

Jag shook his head. "I've read the reports. Every time someone has attempted this before, the patient has woken up and committed suicide before we could question them. We can't take any chances."

"How?" Anakin said, shifting his frosty blue gaze from the table to Jag. 

"How what?"

"How can they commit suicide if they were strapped to a table?"

Jag gestured to the shapers hands. "They have hidden like bio-implants we can't see. Little weapons it seems like they produce out of thin air."

Anakin looked thoughtfully back down at the shaper. "She could have gutted you with her bare hands." Jag chose wisely not to comment. "Perhaps," Anakin speculated, "if we removed the implants..." 

"But how do we find them?"

"That's the trick, isn't it?" Anakin smirked.

Jag snorted derisively. "So all of this is pointless speculation."

"Not necessarily. I don't know how to find them, but I know someone who might."

Jag raised a quizzical scarred brow. "What are you saying?"

Anakin smiled that lopsided grin that made him look like Jaina. "I'm saying we need to take a little trip to Yavin IV."

Jaina was beginning to get worried about Mara. The walk back to the _Sabre_ was tiring her ailing immune system much more than it should have. Perhaps the little shopping excursion had not been such a good idea after all. Jaina never should have let Mara convince her into it. They both should have stayed on the _Roughshod_ where they belonged.

"Mara," Jaina said, taking her arm, "Mara, maybe we should stop."

The woman was panting, the pale skin of her face drawn tight with exertion. She was drawing heavily on the Force to sustain herself. Jaina had a feeling she wasn't going to make it back. Mara raised a hand weakly to ward her attempts at help off, but the action tipped her off balance and she fell heavily to the ground.

"Mara!" Jaina exclaimed, catching her hand in time to keep her fall from being too damaging. She lowered her carefully to the ferrocrete, craddling her head in her hands. "Mara, wake up! Come on, don't do this to me now!" 

Mara coughed lightly, seeming too weak to even do that with energy. "Help me up Jaina. Just get me to the _Sabre_." 

Jaina's hand was caught halfway to her jacket pocket where her comlink was housed. "You need medical attention," she argued. 

Mara shook her head stubbornly. "I just...need a healing trance. The...Emdees can't do anything anyway. Get me to the... _Sabre_."

Jaina chewed agonizingly on her lower lip. "Don't you dare die on me, Aunt Mara; Uncle Luke would never forgive me."

A faint smile played across her once full lips. "Luke."

Jaina sighed heavily, and with aid from the Force hoisted Mara into a standing position. With one arm thrown over Jaina's shoulders and both of Jaina's supporting her, they made an agonizingly slow trek to the docking bays. By the time they reached the _Sabre_'s entry ramp she thought Mara might literally keel over any moment.

She used the Force to open the hatch, and drug Mara inside, pulling her to a bunk. By then she was unconscious. In a panic, Jaina frantically thought of what to do. There was only one thing, really. She had to put her in a trance and lend her what strength she could. And after that, well, Uncle Luke was going to get a very unpleasant call.

Gently as she could, Jaina eased Mara into the healing energy current of the Force. It swept of them both, no over the four of them. Inside Mara her son was as frantic as Jaina, and Hanna could sense her mother's anxiety. But Mara was with her son. That was why she had collapsed. The virus had made yet another attack at the fetus, and Mara had retreated within herself, defending the baby at the cost of her own body. In a sense she was trusting Jaina to keep her alive long enough for the disease to be temporarily beaten back.

Delving deeper into the Force, Jaina drew severely on it, pulling the life force into Mara. She sent wave after wave of purifying energy through her strained systems, beating back the disease with everything she had. She was just a conduit in the stream, redirecting the flow into Mara's diseased body. Eventually she fell into the thoughtless, soothing rhythm herself, continuing her ministrations all through the night.

The Mon Calamari healer placed a skeptical webbed finger to her chin, shaking her bulbous salmon head slowly. "I could do as you are asking, Anakin, but I do not think it would increase her willingness to cooperate when and if we do decide to bring her out of sedation."

Jag leaned forward, placing the flat of his palms on the table and leaning on them heavily. "Then what do you suggest we do? Our options are limited."

One orotund eyes swiveled in its socket to look at him. "If I were to remove these dangerous implants, I would literally have to remove parts of or whole limbs. Her shaper's hand itself is a lethal device. I do not feel amputating it would gain her trust. And that is the basis of what we need to do. Gain her trust and respect. We not only need her cooperation, but her complete defection."

Jag winced, turning away from the examination table. He was quickly running out of ideas, and trying to convince a brain-washed Yuzzhan Vong shaper that they were _wrong_ and should switch sides was not really something he wanted on his to-do list. "Can this be accomplished?" he asked finally, keeping his back turned to the two Jedi.

"I can only try," Cilghal said.

"Can you insure that we can put her in an environment where she would not immediately do physical harm to herself?" he said, turning to look at her.

She stood still for several long moments, then nodded once. "I believe it can be done."

Nen Yim's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was that she was no longer in the swamp. Somehow, she must have destroyed the infidel, or been rescued by the warriors who were supposed to be guarding her. Damn them, she thought. Leaving her alone under that tree because 'it would be safer there'. Much good that had done. They had left her to go seek their own personal glory in combat and she had been the one to be attacked. If they had saved her, however, she supposed the transgression could be forgiven.

Her shaper's hand twitched and moved to the spot where she had been shot by the infidel. They didn't even detect a scar. That was odd. The scar would be a desired effect, and no sane healer would have kept its glory from her. Her fingers traveled further reaching to touch the surface she lay on.

Grass, or some such weed.

It smelled nothing like anything she had ever shaped. Something native to Ramella, perhaps? She didn't know. The canopy of many titanic trees hung above her, and behind them a reddish glow intermingled with sunlight. Carefully, very carefully, Nen Yim sat up.

She was in a forest, as expected. But it looked like nothing that should be on Ramella. No, this was not Ramella at all, but somewhere else entirely. How had she gotten there? Had she been transported by Yuuzhan Vong she should be in a worldship or a grashal on some planet right now. But there was no sign of any other intelligent life.

Perhaps, just perhaps, she was actually dead. Did she not receive a greeting from the gods, receive glory for her actions on their behalf and against the infidels? No, she could not be dead. A dream then, maybe a dream. 

It did not feel like a dream, either.

She sat in the dip between the roots of a great tree, covered in light moss. She ran her fingers lightly over the surface, then gripped it firmly, using it to hoist herself onto her feet. She was wobbly for a few moments, but steadied quickly. The sound of running water came to her ears, somewhere not far away.

Turning to the noise she followed it until she found a small bubbling stream. A natural stream. This was an unshaped world. And that could only mean it was a world not occupied by the Yuuzhan Vong.

Fear clutched in her throat, threatening to choke her. Had she gotten here by infidel transport? And if so, why were they not here now? It was too much for her clouded mind. She slowly sat down onto the sandy shore of the riverbed, unable to stand the pressure of her own fears.

A sound.

Nen Yim turned, trying to find the strength to scrabble to her feet, but the attempt was in vain. A creature appeared out of the trees. It was not a human, but an alien native to this galaxy. It walked with a calm and centered grace despite its girth and bulky cranium. To Nen Yim, it looked like a walking fish. 

It stopped a few meters from her, it's small mouth parting in imitation of a human smile. "Greetings, Master Shaper. I am here to help you."

Nen Yim's first instinct was to either kill the thing, or kill herself. But reason overruled. There were those in this galaxy that had been promised to the Yuuzhan Vong who were traitorous to their own, who aided the Yuuzhan Vong in their conquest. Perhaps this being was one of those. Perhaps it could get her back to her people. "Who are you?" she said slowly, trying to remember if those were the correct words. She had spent little time trying to learn their infidel tongue.

The being bowed. "I am called Cilghal. Who are you?"

Nen Yim bristled. She would not deign to answer this creatures questions. "Where are we? How did I get here?"

The fish-thing called Cilghal smiled again. "This is the forest. And I walked here."

Nen Yim was growing angry. "What planet is this, and how did _I_ get here?"

Cilghal sat across from her, a good ten meters away. Enough to converse comfortably but give Nen Yim her personal space. "The place and time are not important, and sometimes the question is as important as the answer."

Nen Yim scowled. "I demand that you take me back to my people, infidel."

Cilghal made no protest, simply inclined her head gravely. "Very well." Still she made no move to rise or lead Nen Yim out of the jungle. 

"Well?" the shaper asked finally.

"Well what?" Cilghal asked.

"Take me back to my people!"

"Oh, I will, if that's what you want. Just not right now," she said matter-of-factly.

Nen Yim was appalled. How dare this creature defy her? "Maggot filth," she spat, "I told you to take me home!"

The being was nonplussed. "I already explained to you, I will take you home in time. But first I want to speak with you for a while."

She was sure what to make of this. The best course of action would be to kill herself now, but something stopped her. She could learn so many things to use against the infidels from this Cilghal creature. Would it not be better to live for her people now than to die for them? And this fishy thing certainly posed no physical threat to her by herself. She wouldn't hold up long, unarmed as she was, if Nen Yim decided to kill her. 

"What do you want from me?"

Cilghal shifted slightly, cocking her huge head at an odd angle as she observed her. "What is your name?"

Nen Yim did not want to tell her, but she would need her if she wanted to get back to her people. "Nen Yim," she finally replied, grudgingly.

Cilghal smiled again. "Well, Nen Yim, as I said before, I am here to help you." 

"How?" she asked suspiciously.

"That depends. What do you need most?"

The shaper licked her lips suspiciously. "A transport home."

"Nothing other than that?"

She looked at Cilghal distrustfully. Was she willing to just give her anything she needed? "I want to know about the infidels."

Cilghal showed her first sign of confusion then. "I am sorry, I know no infidels."

"_You_ are an infidel!"

"I most certainly am not," she said without even a hint of being angered. "And if you want my help, I don't think calling my people and me names is going to help any."

Nen Yim gritted her teeth. "Fine, what shall I call you, _fish_?" 

Cilghal actually laughed, a grating but not entirely unpleasant sound. "I have already told you, you may call me Cilghal. And the people of this galaxy, you may call them gentlebeings." Nen Yim scoffed at the suggestion but did not contradict her.

"I want to know about the people of this galaxy. Show me about them, so I may discover how best to defeat them," she said.

Cilghal stood, her flowing white rob swaying gracefully as she moved. "That I can do. Follow me. I think I know some people who can help you."

Jag's heart pounded so loudly he thought for sure Anakin could hear it loud and clear. He watched over the hidden feed as Cilghal managed to manipulate the Vong shaper as if she had been doing such things for decades. They were amazing, these Jedi. Jag could only hope his daughter grew up to be as great as her mother and her family.

"I think I know some people who can help you," Cilghal was saying. 

Anakin swung his chair around on its repulsorlifts, sliding it across the room to hit the button that disconnected the feed. "I think that's our cue."

Jag stood, trying to overcome the nervous habit to fidget. "Do you really think this will work?" 

"It was so far," he shrugged. A few seconds later he frowned. "You know, we probably should have let Uncle Luke in on this."

"It's not too late," Jag said. "It should take a good ten minutes for Cilghal to walk her all the way back to the temple. We have time to get him here."

Anakin nodded slowly. "Okay. After I thought about it, it's probably not a good idea to bring a cognizant Yuuzhan Vong into the Jedi Temple without telling him anyway."

When Anakin returned with Luke Skywalker, Jag wondered how a few weeks could make someone look so wearied. But the way even Jag could sense the concern flying off of Anakin he got the impression that this was an entirely new development. He managed to catch his brother-in-law's eye as he followed a fatigued-looking Luke to a chair. "What's wrong with him?" he mouthed. Anakin shrugged.

Jag turned to the Jedi Master. "Uh, Luke, are you okay?"

Luke solemnly shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"What's wrong, Uncle Luke?" Anakin asked, obviously concerned.

Luke ran a trembling hand over his bow. "It's Mara."

"What happened?" Jag snapped, his mind immediately reeling at the thought that something could have happened to Jaina and Hanna.

"I'm not sure. But it feels like..." he stopped, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands, "it feels like she's slipping."

Jag swallowed hard, unable to overcome his own selfish fears. "And Jaina?"

Anakin laid a hand on his arm. "It's okay. I would have felt it if something had happened to her."

Luke nodded sadly. "It's the disease. It's eating away at her. And there's nothing I can do," he choked.

Jag felt for him, and was suddenly ashamed at his own worry. "I'm so sorry, Luke. Is there anything I can do?" he asked, silently cursing his own ineptness.

Luke shook his head. "I feel like I should go to her, but last time she and Jaina threatened me..."

Jag scowled angrily. "If she's getting sicker, you need to be with her. After this is over, I'll call Jaina and see what's going on. We'll both go."

Anakin smirked quietly, but Jag didn't miss it. "What?" Jag asked.

"You just want to see Jaina."

"I do want to see Jaina. But that's not why I'm going," Jag said calmly.

"Whatever," Anakin said dismissively. "You two can settle that later. Cilghal should be here any minute, and we still have to fill in Uncle Luke."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

The room was repugnant in its artificial equipment, and just being inside it was a terrible experience for Nen Yim. Cilghal seemed not to notice her disgust, either that or she chose to ignore it. Instead she entered the room gracefully, sweeping towards three human men who sat at one wall. All three looked familiar, but for the life of her Nen Yim could not place them.

"Master Shaper," Cilghal said, "I think these men might be able to assist you in your quest."

Nen Yim stared at them. The youngest could not yet be fully out of childhood, though his features were deceptively mature at first glance. His eyes were what struck Nen Yim, an icy blue that pierced her until she had to look away. The other was tall and handsome, but his expression was cold and calculating. He distrusted her, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. The eldest was the only one who seemed to be as open as Cilghal. His face was lightly lined with age and the small scars of battle, but he had a welcoming, friendly air that immediately demanded her trust.

"Who are they?" she asked finally.

The elder man smiled. "I am Luke. These are my nephews."

Nen Yim fidgeted with her shaper's headdress, but Cilghal was the next to speak. "Why don't you sit, Master Nen Yim? You are safe here."

Reluctantly the Yuuzhan Vong sat. Cilghal sat beside her. The floor was a cool stone, and for that she was thankful, sitting on a metal surface would have been a terrible form of desecration. "This is Nen Yim. She wants to learn about our ways of life," Cilghal began.

"What would you like to know?" the tall dark-headed man asked.

"How to bring a swift defeat to your kind," Nen Yim snapped unhesitatingly.

Luke simply smiled. "Why would you want to do that? What have we done to you?"

"The gods have promised us this galaxy, and you refuse to yield to their demands. Therefore we must humble you," she stated flatly.

"How can you be so sure?" the youngest questioned.

"The Supreme Overlord has received a vision. And our priests agree. These are our worlds."

Luke cocked his head at her assessment. "What if they're lying?"

Nen Yim outwardly balked at the suggestion, but inwardly cursed this human's logic. It was not an idea foreign to the shaper. She had long questioned the god's existence, at least in private. Her beliefs had been stirred as an adept by her own master, a heretic in every sense of the word. Nen Yim didn't know what to believe, but she did know that the likelihood of such gods being real were slim. She was not loyal to them, but to her people. They needed a home, and this was as good as any.

"They would not lie."

"Do you know each and every one of them well enough to know for certain?" Before she could respond her shrugged it off and moved on. "It doesn't matter. If you are right, why can't we all inhabit the galaxy together?"

"Because you are infidels! You are maggots under the mighty heel of the Yuuzhan Vong. To place you as equals would be blasphemy."

They all regarded her coolly. Cilghal shifted on her stone floor seat as if to speak, but she was cut off as a machine on the other side of the room began to beep wildly. The dark-haired man rose and went to answer it.

Jag flipped the switch with irritation, but that quickly vanished as he saw Jaina's face resolve on the other end. "Jaina!" he exclaimed with relief. "How's Mara doing? Luke's been so worried."

His young wife looked tired and confused, but otherwise no worse for wear. "What are you doing on Yavin?"

"I'll explain later. How's Mara?" 

"She had a setback last night. We went shopping and she couldn't make the trip back to the _Jade Sabre_. I had to practically carry her. I put her in a healing trance, and she seems to be better now. But I'm not letting her out of my sight for a while, and no more activities where she has to exert herself." 

Jag nodded sagely, absorbing the information. "Luke wants to come see her."

Jaina ran a tired hand over her brow. "I'm not going to lie to you; he probably should. I'm afraid she won't make it too much longer, Jag. She's so frail, I feel so sorry for her."

He looked as his hands, not sure what to say. It was a terrible thing, what was happening to the Jedi Master and his wife. He wasn't sure he could bear it if the roles were reversed and it was Jaina who was facing certain death. "How is she mentally?" he asked at last.

"Right now I think she's just trying to hold out until it would be safe for them to take the baby. I don't think she's keeping any hope for herself."

Jag sighed, wanting to change the subject. "How are you and Hanna?"

Jaina did smiled then, genuinely. "Amazing. I love being able to feel her so much. She has her own little personality already. It's like I can't even remember life before her."

"I know what you mean," he said, though he really didn't, not in the same sense. He couldn't remember not having Jaina, but he couldn't be as close to their child as Jaina was until it was born. He loved it deeply, of course, but it wasn't the same thing. "I'm glad you're both okay, at least. I know that's selfish, but I don't really care right now. I don't think I could even breathe without you, Jaina."

She smiled again, sadly this time. "I know."

Suddenly Jag remembered the people occupying the room with him. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. We captured a Yuuzhan Vong shaper. That's what I'm doing here, Anakin and I brought her to Cilghal. We're in the process of trying to shake her faith in the Vong right now."

Jaina's eyes lit up suddenly. "Jag, do you have any idea what this means? You have to bring her to Bastion, now!"

Jag frowned. "Why? We can take care of it here, and it's really much safer—"

"No!" she hissed. "Jag, Mara was poisoned by a Yuuzhan Vong! That shaper might be able to cure her!"

Jag sat back in astonishment. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Who cares? Just do it. If you hurry we might could save her, Jag, her and the baby both," she blossomed, the excitement and anticipation shining from her eyes. 

Jag nodded and stood. "I'll take care of it. We'll be there in a few days. I love you, Jaina."

"I love you too, Jag. Hurry home."

Anakin didn't know what had transpired on that line, but he knew as soon as he saw Jag's face that it had been important. The general stopped at the edge of their group, his eyes bright with restrained glee. "Luke, I need to talk to you a moment, please," he said quietly.

The Jedi Master had been in the middle of explaining to she shaper why the people of the galaxy insisted on fighting for their freedom. He looked up at Jag, the slightest annoyance building behind his gaze. "Can it wait?"

"No."

With a sigh Luke rose and followed Jag to a discreet distance away where the general proceeded to animately explain something to the older man. When he was done the easing of Luke's pent up emotions was palpable in the air. He walked softly back to the group, easing down onto the floor. He seemed so happy Anakin thought for a moment he might cry. "Master Shaper, I would like to show you something, if you would permit me."

"What is it?" she asked in her thick accent, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

"You want to learn about us, how we function so that you might learn our weaknesses, correct?"

She nodded curtly. 

"I'm going to make you an offer so grand you can hardly refuse. I will personally escort you to Bastion, the capital world of the Empire, where you can observe the goings and comings of the most prominent threat to the Yuuzhan Vong incursion first hand."

The shaper looked speechless. "At what price?" she inquired at long last.

Luke shook his head simply. "No price. Just a promise."

"What kind of promise?"

"Just a promise that you will take to heart all you see, and will take what's happening at full value. Try to look at it without bias."

She stood suddenly. "You will not force me to go against my people." 

"Nor would I try. I will let you see anything you want when we get there, and after you have seen all you want will let give you a transport to take to wherever you may please, whether that be back to your people or somewhere else. I just want the chance to show you this war from our perspective. You can take what you see however you want after that."

Nen Yim licked her lips nervously. "Anything I want to see?"

"Anything."

After a moments consideration she bobbed her head once. "Deal."

Jaina wiped the sweat gently off her aunt's brow with a cool cloth, biting her lip in a mixture of anguish and hope. "Uncle Luke's coming to see you, Aunt Mara," she whispered.

Mara looked up at her and smiled gently. "I know."

"He's bringing help. Someone who might be able to save you."

"And the baby?" she asked stiffly.

Jaina nodded solemnly. "And your baby. Just keep holding on. You'll be okay, both of you. You can't die, Mara. Your son needs you. You can't let him grow up without a mother, now can you?"

Mara closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She looked even more frail, but the grip she had on Jaina's hand grew bone-crushingly tight. "Promise me something, Jaina."

"Anything," she said unhesitatingly.

"If I die, my son will need a mother. I need you to be there for him, help him grow up with the love that only a mother can give. Can you do that, Jaina?"

Jaina swallowed hard. "Don't start talking like that yet, you still have too much living to do to give up now."

Mara shook her head. "You and I both know I'm dying. I'll fight it until the end, but the end is inevitable. Promise me my son won't grow up without a mother."

"He'll have Uncle Luke," Jaina argued lamely, not wanting to accept her death as fact.

"Luke..." Mara said, and then shook her head again and sighed. "Luke has had so much grief in his life. My death will not be easy on him. He'll take it hard, so hard. I know he'll be the best father he can, and that he'll love this child, but he'll never get over it. My child will need something other than a grieving father in his life. Tell me you will give him that. Promise me."

Jaina leaned over and kissed her forehead softly, blinking back tears. "I promise." 


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Nen Yim was no fool, no matter what the infidels believed. She knew their minds, and how they sought to turn her. It was no secret, and she had no desire to play their games of pretend. Staying with them would be a waste of her time. She needed to go back where she belonged.

The room they had given her was the same stone as the rest of the ziggurat, and she had promptly had all offensive, lifeless, objects removed, leaving only the mattress and a blanket. She was alone, and because her hosts were trying profusely to convince her of their trustworthiness, Nen Yim had no fear of being spied upon. She could do what she needed uninterrupted.

Carefully she peeled back the sleeve of her tunic, rolling it up and over her shoulder. With her shaper's hand she caressed the flesh inside of her upper arm gently. The knot about the size of her fist was easily felt. Taking a single digit, sharp as a couffee, she made an incision from her underarm to her elbow. Thick, dark blood dripped to the floor, staining it. Nen Yim paid it and the pain no mind.

Gently she peeled back the layer of flesh and plucked the blood-covered orb from her skin. Easily she forgot about the gash and let it bleed. She would tend to the self-inflicted wound in due time. She wiped the tiny villip clean on her robe then rubbed the top in a certain way. It folded in on itself, resolving into the face of the intendant she sought.

"Executor," she said, happy to be speaking her own tongue once again.

Nom Anor's one eye grew wide with surprise. "Nen Yim. So you live still."

Nen Yim pursed her lips. "I do, no thanks to your assistance."

Nom Anor shrugged her off. "Who can trust warriors to do as they say? They are too preoccupied with their own glory. It is not my fault you were apprehended. You were apprehended, were you not?"

Nen Yim licked her lips nervously. "I believe so. They are very vague on the subject. I believe they are trying to win my allegiance."

The executor snorted sarcastically and rolled his eyes, a very human gesture, picked up from his years among them. They distinguished him from the others, but also made him a little less trustworthy. Nen Yim knew to watch herself around him. "And how goes their progress?" 

Nen Yem folded her arms over her chest and gave him a stern look. "They are infidels, and fools. They have offered to take me to their Bastion and give me their secrets, but I do not believe it. They want something."

"Who are 'they'?" he questioned. 

Nen Yim shrugged. "They look familiar. One is a fish-thing, another an older human male named Luke, and two of his kin."

Nom Anor's eyebrows rose as she described them. "Not...Luke Skywalker?" 

Nen Yim frowned. "The _Jeedai_ leader? I do not know. He does not seem like the tales of the _Jeedai_ I have heard the warrior caste whisper of. He is not nearly threatening enough." 

Nom Anor nodded sagely. "The Jedi are overly pacifistic when not on the field of battle. They make a great show of being nonviolent hermits that just want to meditate and protect the weak," he snickered.

Nen Yim rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Didn't you try to kill one of the Skywalker clan before your cover was broken with the Chiss?"

His features contorted into a sneer. "That little whelp of a Jedi deserved far worse than what I gave her."

"But did she not live?"

He looked away momentarily. "She was at her father's funeral several months after that. But Jaina Solo's day will come, just like the others." 

She was quickly tiring of this line of conversation. That was not why she had contacted him. "What would you have me do, Executor? I grow weary of these people, whoever they may be." 

"Find out who they are. If it is the Skywalkers, I will have much more use of you where you are."

"Sithspit, Jaina, I may be dying but I'm not dead yet," Mara cursed as Jaina steered her back to her room and the bed she should be resting in. Upon return to the _Roughshod_ Jaina had had their quarters consolidated so she could keep an eye on her, and it was turning out to be a good thing. The rest was making her better, but Mara was too stubborn for her own good.

"Mara, do you want to live to see this baby? Because if you do, getting out of bed and traipsing around the suite when you should be resting isn't going to help any."

Mara sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed and drew her legs up onto it. "I've been kooked up here for days. Can't I just lay on the couch in the common room for a while?"

"No," Jaina said. "The best place for you is here. I'm only doing this for your own good, Aunt Mara. Now what do you want for lunch?"

Mara glowered at her as Jaina pulled the covers up over her lap like a child. "Anything but soup." 

Jaina folded her arms across her chest. "Last time you tried to eat solid food you threw it all up, remember? The baby needs nourishment, and if you can hold soup then you're going to eat soup." 

"I've had soup nonstop for _days_, Jaina. I couldn't eat another bite," Mara whined.

"How about we try something different?" Jaina said cheerfully. "Protato soup, maybe?"

Mara groaned, but gestured for Jaina to go ahead. She wasn't the best of cooks by far, but she could use a synthesizer on a container of soup mix. "Uncle Luke and Jag should be here with the shaper any time now," Jaina said from the galley.

"How do they know she'll cooperate?" Mara yelled back.

"I don't know," Jaina said as she popped the container into the machine and set the timer for the appropriate amount. "Jag just said that they would take care of everything and would be here in a few days."

"And how many days ago was that?"

"Three," Jaina answered. "But it would take that long to get here from Yavin, longer since Jag'll probably bring them all in the _Valorous_." 

The timer stopped and buzzer rang. Jaina opened the small door and pulled out the now-perfectly-cooked bowl of soup. She fixed a glass of blue milk to go along with it and went back into the bedroom. Despite her protests, Mara ate the dinner ravenously. "Yummy?" Jaina asked with a grin.

"Horrid," Mara answered as she shoveled another bite into her mouth. "But I just can't stop. I think my boy likes it, even if I don't."

Jaina patted her leg and stood. "I'm going to go on deck for a few minutes, make sure things are running smoothly. That is my job, after all. I'll have my comlink if you need me, and I should be back in less than half an hour."

Mara arched one sardonic red eyebrow. "You do know I used to kill people for a living, right?" 

Jaina just smiled. "Comm if you need me."

"A large vessel has just arrive in system, General," an officer said from his terminal.

Jaina's back went rigid with tension. "Friendly or enemy?"

"Just a moment," he said, fingers flying over the keyboard. Then, "Friendly, General." 

Jaina visible relaxed, letting out a long low breath. "Ask for identification," she said in a much quieter, easier tone. 

"Her transponder code identifies her as the _Valorous_, General." Jaina's emotions took another turn, this time falling the other direction. Before she could make a reasonable response the technician continued, "They're requesting to have a shuttle dock on the _Roughshod_. Shall I give them clearance?"

"Yes," Jaina said breathlessly. "Let them land."

The first thing Jag noticed as he stepped off the lowered ramp of the shuttle was how _right_ it felt to be back in the Empire. He had his own crew on the _Valorous_, of course, but being back in the cornerstone of the government made him feel so alive. The second thing he noticed was that the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen had just stepped off the turbolift and into the hangar.

She smiled, and if she hadn't already been his wife Jag would have proposed right then. The distance between then was closed in a heartbeat and suddenly he was holding her close, his face buried in her mass of chestnut hair and inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. Lips pressed against his and he drank her in like a man who was dying of thirst. She pulled away much sooner than he would have liked, gripping his hands tightly in hers. "Kriff I've missed you." 

Jag smiled, but his eyes were drawn lower. Barely detectable underneath her military-cut jumpsuit was the slightest of bulges, the first outward sign of the growing child inside her. Jaina followed his gaze and her smiled grew wider. She took one of his hands and placed it over the swelling, letting him feel the amplification.

It was an amazing, intimate moment that left Jag's mind completely blank. It really _hit him_ then, there was a baby growing inside his wife. His baby. A life.

He didn't know what to think. Despite that, Jaina seemed to read him perfectly. She moved forward, pressing her face into his chest. "I know," she whispered. 

Someone cleared their throat behind them. They pulled once again out of the embrace but Jag kept his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. "Where's Mara?" a nervous looking Luke asked as the couple turned their attention on him.

"In our room," Jaina answered softly. "She's feeling a little better today, I think, but she's far from well Uncle Luke, and she looks it. I just don't want you to be surprised."

Luke nodded sadly, as if he had expected it. Instead of responding he moved aside, letting Jaina see their their third companion, excluding Anakin and Cilghal who were still on the shuttle. The Yuuzhan Vong seemed to size her up, her headdress twitching with an emotion Jaina couldn't decipher. "This is Nen Yim," Jag said softly.

Jaina stepped forward out of his arms. "Welcome to the Empire, Master Shaper."

Except for the red hair and emerald eyes, Luke would not have recognized the sunken features of his wife. His heart was somewhere in his throat, and he seemed unable to swallow it back down. Mara smiled at him, but like everything else it was devoid of the fire that lit her soul. He reached out to her tentatively through their bond, and it was there he found the woman he loved.

He knew then that just because her body was incapable of expressing the person within, it didn't mean she wasn't there. She was still the candle and love the flame. She told him through their intimate connection everything he needed to know.

She showed him first their son, growing strong and healthy in his mother's womb. He was mostly oblivious to the slow destruction of Mara's body, and wholly unaffected. That was how she wanted it. She would rather be completely ravaged beyond repair than to let the disease hurt him. 

That worried Luke. He admired her protectiveness, but he was afraid she was giving _too_ little attention to herself. Their son couldn't grow without her. But Mara remained staunch in her decision. But that didn't mean she was giving up, she told him. She wanted many more years with him and their child. One lifetime together in itself wasn't enough, and getting that one cut short was unacceptable. She would fight it.

Luke moved to the bedside, still having spoken no words aloud. He laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms holding her close. _I won't let you die, love_, he promised. She moved closer to him, and for once leaned on his strength. That in itself let him know how weak she really was.

Mara was the kind of woman who insisted on standing on her own two feet. She was ferociously independent, and was often angered by his desire to pamper her. The fact that she was now practically asking for him to help her was disturbing. But he was willing to do anything she asked.

He gave her all his strength, every ounce of energy he had he poured into her. Just as she was defensive when it came to their son, Luke was fearsomely protective over her. He attacked the virus in her with that strength of will, and didn't stop until he was too tired to continue.

Jag pressed his ear to the spot she indicated, listening carefully for the heartbeat she assured him was there. He closed his eyes, hopeful. For several long moments he heard nothing and grew afraid that he wouldn't. And then it was there.

Awe stirred in him as he heard the gentle thudding rhythm, the surest sign yet of an independent life that was a part of both of them. Jaina laughed aloud at his glee, running her hands through his hair lovingly. "I've waited so long to share this with you."

He raised up reluctantly and smiled. "It's like...there are no words, are there?" Jaina smiled as she shook her head. He leaned down and kissed her softly. "I'm so happy to be back here with you."

She grinned and pulled him back down next to her. "I can tell," she whispered sultrily as she nipped at his lower lip. Jag kissed her heavily, running hungry hands up and down her bare back. She drew him close, and soon they were both hopelessly lost in the passion of the reunion.

Nen Yim watched Cilghal with a mixture of impatience and distrust. She was angry that she had been forced one, to stay on such a vile mocking of life, and two, stay in a room with the Mon Calamari she had come to believe was a Jedi. She had much need to be alone and was terribly inconvenienced by her presence.

"I wish to learn about the processes your ships use to move," she said as Cilghal tidied up the room. The quarters they had been given were not the standard kind. They had pools of salt water for Cilghal's comfort, and they assumed she would be more comfortable in the naturalistic setting as well. They were wrong.

She would have gladly traded the lifelike rooms for a few moments of privacy. How was she supposed to contact Nom Anor with Cilgal always breathing down her back?

"Certainly," she said cheerfully.

"Would you mind giving me a moment to change?" she asked finally after being able to come up with nothing else.

Cilghal smiled in that unnatural way again but hurried out of the room, giving her her much sought for privacy. Nen Yim hurriedly pulled the villip from her tunic and stroked it carefully. A few seconds later Nom Anor's scarred face once again appeared in her hands. "What have you found?" he asked without preamble.

"The Jaina Solo you tried to kill, is she expecting to birth soon?" Nen Yim asked breathlessly.

Nom Anor curiously inclined his head.

Nen Yim sat back with a sigh of satisfaction. "Then it is the Skywalkers. A whole troupe of Jedi."

He licked his lips in anticipation. "This is too perfect. Who all is with you?"

Nen Yim counted them in her head, trying to remember their names. "The leader, Luke, a very young boy who is his sister's son, a man named Jag who is Jaina Solo's mate, one named Cilghal, Jaina Solo herself, and I believe Luke Skywalker's mate is somewhere on the ship as well."

"Where is this ship?"

"Bastion, I think," she replied.

Nom Anor grinned wickedly. "We must devise a plan."

"I have no time," Nen Yim panted, knowing Cilghal would be getting suspicious. "I must go soon." 

"Then I will think on it until you can contact me again," he replied. "Discover all you can. There has to be a million ways we can turn this to our advantage." 


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

The crack resounded through the room, and sparks flew from the force of the blow. They froze for a moment, blue eyes locking onto brown; and then Jaina moved. She spun, twisting Anakin's blade around in a circle, almost dislodging his grip. He stubbornly held on and backflipped out of her reach. She didn't charge immediately, but shifted her footing and the grip on the hilt of her weapon. As he came to a standstill she smiled lopsidedly. "You might as well give up now, Anakin."

He returned the grin. "We'll see." He charged, swinging from the bottom left up, catching her blade at high right, leaving her left flank open. He took advantage of it, bringing a booted foot up at her midsection. At the last second he thought better of it, shifting his stance so that it made contact with her shoulder.

Jaina rolled with the kick, letting its momentum throw her into a one-handed flip. He didn't follow through, but waited for her to recover. "I'm sorry," he said, voice pained. "I forgot about the baby."

Jaina momentarily reached out, touching Hanna and reassuring herself that her child was unharmed. As expected, she was fine. "It's okay. You remembered in time." 

Anakin still looked uncomfortable. "We should stop. That was too close."

Jaina started to object that she wasn't made of flimsiplast, but a voice across the room stopped her. "He's right. For now. You both need a break at least." Jaina turned and gave her aunt a look, but Mara's stare was unyielding.

"Fine," Jaina agreed, extinguishing her blade. She turned and headed to where Mara sat. Over the last few days Luke and she had been pouring all their energy into cleansing her of the disease. Day and night they meditated until she was, until it unavoidably multiplied, for a while only suffering from mild effects of the illness. It was still too premature to let her walk around, but Jaina had commissioned a hoverchair so she could at least leave their quarters.

Jaina sat down beside Mara's chair and took a long swig from her cantine. "That was close," Mara said softly.

"It was my fault," Jaina said, taking another drink.

"You're right," Mara agreed. When Jaina gave her a look she smiled slyly. "Your flank should have never been so open. You're a better fighter than that." 

Jaina was stunned, and so said nothing, just sipped lightly on her water bottle.

"Don't tell me you didn't think about it. If you hadn't been pregnant, and this had been a real fight, you would be dead right now. He had you, and you know it."

"Sithspit, of course I know it!" Jaina cursed. She rubbed her forehead sadly. "How do you think it feels, knowing your little brother can beat you in a lightsaber fight?"

"I wouldn't know," Mara said flippantly. "But he's been practicing like a maniac, long before Luke commissioned the Jedi to help in the war effort. It got to where Jacen would refuse to spar with him. He said it was because he was fanatical, but I personally think he was afraid to let Anakin beat him."

Jaina smiled softly. "You know he never would have let him hear the end of it."

Mara matched Jaina's smiled with her own. "I know." She reached out then, taking Jaina's hand in her own and squeezing. "But that's not the point I was trying to make. How long has it been since you practiced, Jaina?" 

Jaina chewed her lower lip, trying to think. Finally she sighed in defeat. "I can't even remember."

"Hm," Mara said. "Just like I thought. You can't let your Jedi skills slide, just because you're a big bad Imperial now."

Jaina laughed at Mara's jest. "I'm just so busy. I have much more use for studying starfighter tactics than lightsaber techniques."

"Do you really think this war is going to be won from the bridge of a Star Destroyer?" Mara questioned.

"Why not?" Jaina said.

Mara looked at her knowingly. "Now you're just being difficult. Do you think the Empire was defeated _outside_ the Death Star? The Rebellion won the moment your grandfather realized his son was more important to him than power."

Jaina unconsciously ran a hand along her abdomen, caressing the life inside. "What's your point?"

"Her point, dear niece," a new voice said, "is that the outcome of war has always depended on the Jedi. How we act could change everything because we balance or unbalance the Force. You need to be prepared to do anything you must when the time comes."

Jaina turned to look at her uncle. "How long have you been listening in?"

"Long enough to know Mara's right." He then turned a reprimanding stare on his wife. "Even though she shouldn't be running around without supervision."

The paleness of Mara's skin and the slight blue tint to her lips made Jaina agree. She was better, but not that much better. Mara fixed Luke with a scowl. "You're not my keeper, Skywalker."

Luke crouched down beside her chair and grinned. "Ah, but you see love, for once in our lives you are powerless to stop me from being my natural overprotective self. Come on, both of you, Cilghal has decided it's time to spill the beans to our Yuuzhan Vong captive."

Jaina sat down next to Jag, folding her legs under her and letting his arm come to rest around her shoulders. Luke and Mara had collectively decided that she had had enough excitement for one day, and so they were waiting for Luke to return after taking her back to their suite to rest. Anakin sat in a chair across from them, lost in thought. Cilghal was keeping Nen Yim occupied, as she had been the since they arrived. She had instructed her –with Anakin's help—in the mechanics and design of starfighters, and more recently in the physics of bacta. Nen Yim had absorbed everything with concealed interest, understanding and then moving on.

"Why are we here?" she questioned for the fifth time.

"We will explain everything when Mas—Luke arrives."

Nen Yim crossed her arms and remained silent,reminding Jaina of a pouting child. With her eyes Jaina traced the scars and tattoos on her face and arms for the umpteenth time, and for the umpteenth time wondered at the self-mutilation. She couldn't imagine the logic behind such gruesomeness. But that's what they were doing, trying to get Nen Yim to really _see_ her culture from the outside. To look at life from all angles.

Jaina turned and looked up into her husbands face. Quietly she said, "Would you still love me if I was disfigured like that?"

Jag took a moment to pretend to ponder the question. "The scars would be okay, but I'm not so sure about the tattoos..."

He was rewarded by a resounding punch to the shoulder, which only made him laugh. He grinned and kissed her forehead lovingly. "You know I would love if you didn't even have a face."

It was then that Luke decided to make his entrance. He smiled amiably at the gathering, and all other conversation ceased. Wordlessly he sat down on the couch beside Jag and Jaina, waiting for the importance of the situation to sink in. Finally, "Nen Yim, I hope you have found this experience educational."

"Very much so," she said, deadpan.

"Good. Would you mind telling me what you have learned of us?"

The shaper seemed to bristle at the questioning. "What am I, a crechéling in a nursery?"

It was Cilghal that replied. "Of course not. We just want to make sure we have lived up to our promise."

Very slowly, and grudgingly, Nen Yim answered. "I have seen the mechanics of your flying machines and the secrets of your healing fluid."

Luke looked disappointed. "Is that all?" 

"What else should I have seen?" she snapped.

"Maybe you should have observed our value of life. Or perhaps our desire for peace. Or possibly even value we place on individuality and the natural state of our bodies," Jaina interjected.

Nen Yim threw her a withering stare. "Such practices go against our gods." 

"And who has told you this?" Jag asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Have you seen these gods? Have you spoken with them? Did they tell you their minds? What proof do you have of their existence?"

Nen Yim seemed flustered. "I do not need to prove their existence to you."

"No, you don't," Luke said. "We just want you to prove it to yourself."

She fumed quietly for a tense moment, eyeing each one of them in turn. Then, "What of it?"

"Will you at least tell us you have seen reason in what we do, not just the mindless barbarity that has so far exemplified the Yuuzhan Vong incursion?"

Nen Yim raised her chin. "I will confess nothing." Jaina inwardly smiled. Had she been wholly adverse to what they were saying she would have openly said so.

"We care for all life, even Yuuzhan Vong lives," Luke continued. "We have not harmed you, and will not no matter what you answer. You cannot with an honest heart say that the way your people are living right now is the best for them, after seeing the love and prosperity between us. Did you ever know your family, Nen Yim?"

The shaper swallowed, hard. "No."

"I thought not," Luke said. "Then you have never known the love we have. Can you candidly so you have no desire to do so?"

Her expression remained stoic, unyielding. She made no move to reply. Luke kept going. "If you stay here, if you remain with us and help us, I know I would always consider you a part of my family."

Nen Yim looked aghast. "You would ask me to fight against my own kind?" 

Cilghal shook her huge bulbous head. "Not defeat them; save them. Save them from themselves. Because even if you manage to overcome us, your society will crumble from within if not held together by love and a common bond. A civilization focused on nothing more than death and personal gain will never stand."

The Vong woman was beginning to take on a frightened air. "You lie." 

"You know we speak the truth," Jag said. He looked pointedly at Luke, who nodded his assent. "And to prove it we are going to be completely truthful with you now. My name is Jagged Fel, and I am a general in the Imperial Navy. I am the one you tried to kill in the swamps of Ramella."

Jaina went next. "My name is Jaina Solo-Fel. I'm a Jedi Knight and also a general in the Imperial Navy."

They each went around in a circle, telling their true and full names and their rank within their respective governments. What was most surprising was Nen Yim's obvious like of surprise or interest. "You don't seem surprised," Cilghal observed out loud.

Ne Yim shrugged. "I figured as much." 

There was a stunned silence. Jaina would have questioned her further on the subject, but Luke continued on with the previous inquiry. "That is beside the point. We need your help, Nen Yim, in more than one way. And even if you will not help our governments, I would wish you would aid me in a more personal request."

"What?" she asked icily, suspiciously.

"My wife is suffering from a deadly Yuuzhan Vong disease. If she is not soon cured, she will die. Being a shaper, I hope you have the ability to remedy the poison injected into her system." Luke seemed to hold his breath in anticipation, the whole room did, waiting for Mara's fate.

Finally she stood. "I must think long on this. Will you grant me the privacy I need to contemplate my decision?"

"Of course," he said unhesitatingly. "We'll await your decision until tomorrow." 

Nen Yim's shaper's hand trembled as she stroked the villip in the silence of her chambers. That meeting had been far too personal for her liking, had touched to deep under the flimsy surface of her beliefs. She was so relieved to be out of their presence where she could reconstruct the neat walls around her mind. She never wanted to feel so helplessly bereft again.

Eventually Nom Anor's distorted face appeared in her palm. "Ah, you have fresh news?"

"They have revealed themselves and their intentions to me," she said hurriedly. "It seems their whole design has been to get me to agree to heal Skywalker's wife."

Nom Anor smiled wickedly. "This is too perfect. They are actually going to give you access to her genetic material? To everyone's"

"I suppose if I agree I could ask for reference samples from everyone," she said carefully.

"Well, there's only one thing to do then," he said matter-of-factly. "We poison them all."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

Jag stared at the ceiling blankly, unable to sleep. Random thoughts flew through his mind at lightspeed, jumping randomly from one subject to another. Jaina rested peacefully beside him, blissfully unaware of his inner turbulence. Occasionally she made one of those soft noises she makes in her sleep, then settled back into her dreams. Jag turned his head slightly to look at her as she shifted again.

Her lips worked slightly, as if trying to form words. She was dreaming. The hand that she had draped across his bare chest stiffened, her tiny hand gripping his bicep in a frighteningly tight grip, fingernails digging his skin. The other moved to the minuscule bulge over her otherwise toned abdomen, as if in reassurance. After a moment she relaxed, the dream having passed, returning her to mindless slumber.

That was not uncommon, at least since she had become pregnant. Before then nothing had disturbed her. In fact, he often thought that little less than a full fledged ion storm could rouse her. But since Hanna dreams had been more the norm. He supposed it was a way for her to release her inner anxiety over the coming stresses of parenthood.

That was something Jag knew well. It was easy to forget sometimes that he was only nineteen. When the realization did hit him—just like now, in the dead of night when there was nothing else to occupy his tired mind—it was probably the most frightening thing he could think of. Once or twice he had woken with Jaina in his arms and—for a millisecond—panicked, forgetting the marriage that had been so abruptly pressed on him. He always remembered immediately, and the deep abiding love for her would return. It was just that sometimes his life moved too fast for him to keep up.

It was little over a year ago he had been a single, eighteen-year-old man doing his best to live up to his name in the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet. It seemed as if in the blink of an eye he had a wife, a child, and a job weighed with the responsibility of hundreds of thousands of men and women. It was like time had skipped ahead of him, and he had woken up one day with a completely different life and no memory of having getting there. No, the word fright didn't do what he felt in those moments justice.

And there was Hanna. He loved her with a father's love, so entrenched in his blood that a thousand Yuuzhan Vong couldn't keep him from protecting her. But sometimes his fear of her swelled like an overfed Hutt. What was he going to _do_ with a baby? He knew nothing about kids. Cherith had been so close to him in age he didn't remember a time before her. And he had been entered in the Academy soon after Wyn was born and had observed very little of her infancy. The simple fact was, Jag wasn't qualified to be a dad.

Dad. 

Jag shivered. There was a helpless little life he would suffer and die without a thought for that was going to very soon have no other means of survival than himself and Jaina. She would need food, and clothes, and changing, and what the hell was he supposed to do when she cried?

What do babies want when they cry? Food? He had no idea. What if he couldn't get her to stop crying? And then there was after infancy. She would need an education. And there would be so much pressure on her, being the child of two generals, one a Jedi Knight no less. What if she didn't want to be in the military? What if she hated flying, and being a Jedi, and every other thing both her parents held so dear...

Jag was working himself into a panic, and knew it. He would have been visibly upset, something he prided himself on not doing, had anyone been there to see him. It was too much responsibility; _too much, too soon_...

"Jag?" 

Jag had broken into a sweat, and so turning to look down into Jaina's face made his skin rub uncomfortably against hers. "Hmm?" 

"What are you doing?" Her eyes remained closed, her face pressed against the crook of his arm, jumbling her words.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?"

She sighed and raised up on one arm, looking down at him from under the curtain of her tussled hair. "I know you. I'm _tied_ to you. I can't sleep when you're putting off stress like and ion trail. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it and get some sleep."

Jag avoided her gaze, determined not to reveal the inner turmoil to her. She needed _him_ to be strong. He set his jaw, and Jaina sighed. She leaned down, the soft ends of her hair tickling his chest as she laid gentle kissed down the scar on his brow. When she reached his eyebrow she pulled away slightly, just enough to rest her forehead against his. Jag looked into her eyes then, and finally a sense of calm settled into his stomach.

"You can tell me," she whispered into the dark.

It hit him then, the anchor he needed to hold him firm. He wouldn't be alone in this, not ever. He had Jaina. At the thought a smile piqued the edges of his mouth. Gods, she was going to make a wonderful mother.

"I was afraid," he said quietly, no longer ashamed to tell her anything. "Afraid of letting Hanna down."

She smiled then, and brushed her lips lightly against his. "Me too."

Jag swallowed hard. "You don't seem it."

"Because I know I won't be alone," she shifted a little, folding her arms over his chest and resting her chin on them. "And because I know what _not_ to do. I know how my parents treated me, and I know that what I wanted more than anything was just to have them love me." She smiled then, her amber eyes twinkling in the dark. "And we have plenty of love to go around. As long as we give her that, everything will be okay."

He grinned, feeling the fear recede farther and farther away. One hand snaked over her back and into her hair, pulling her down to where he could really kiss her. When she pulled away he asked, "How long has it been since I told you I loved you?"

She cocked her head as if in thought. "A couple hours, at least."

He pulled her down again and said, "Too long."

Jaina gripped his hand nervously and resisted the urge to bite her nails. "It'll be okay," he promised. "Cilghal's been working hard on her the past few days. She'll make the right choice."

Looking at Luke and Mara, hands clasped together as if they let go they would lose each other forever, she could only hope he was right. "Not to be a spoil sport," Cilghal interjected reluctantly, "but what are we going to do with her if she refuses to help Mara?"

"Just what we promised," Mara said immediately. "Let her go."

"Are you kidding?" Anakin pounced immediately. "We have to turn her over to Intel back on Coruscant. Belindi Kalenda will know what to do with her."

Inwardly, Jaina winced at the thought of letting their greatest weapon go, but knew Luke and Mara would put their honor first. She had little choice.

Luke shook his head stubbornly. "I gave her my word, and I'm going to keep it."

It was then Nen Yim decided to make her entrance. She walked lazily into the room, seemingly disinterested in the anxious looks everyone tossed her way. It was Anakin who broke the silence. "Well?" he practically yelled.

She cocked a cynical brow at him. "Well what?"

"What have you decided, Master Shaper?" Cilghal said.

The Yuuzhan Vong took a deep, difficult breath. "I have thought long on what you have asked me. I have considered everything, and finally I think I have come to a decision. No matter what you do or say, I will never help you defeat my people." The room seemed to deflate, and both Mara and Luke sagged with the weight of her words. "But," she continued, "you all have shown given me much of what I will need when I return to the worldship, and I have given you nothing in payment. Such would be dishonorable. So, even though I will never give anything to your infidel governments, I will do my best to provide the cure for Mara's illness."

The burst of joy from so many powerful Jedi was overwhelming and exhilarating, and Jaina closed her eyes against the elation, not sure how much of it was her own or everyone else's. When she opened them again Mara had her face buried in her hands, and if Jaina didn't know any better she would have thought she was weeping. Luke had stood and moved towards the shaper, looking happier than Jaina had ever seen him. "There will never be words," he began slowly, "that can express my profound gratitude. Thank you."

Nen Yim smiled weakly as he shook her hand, nodding at everyone's expression of thanks. If she hadn't known any better, Jaina would have thought that behind her eyes was the tiniest twinge of guilt. But she had no time to ponder it, because Mara was going to be cured, and that's all that mattered.

The needle gleamed in the light, but Jaina didn't shy from the pain. Anything for Mara. Nen Yim and said she would need uninfected human DNA samples to help adjust the antidote from Yuuzhan Vong physiology to human, and they had all been more than happy to provide her with it. It was agreed that Cilghal would assist in the creation of the antidote, and between the two of them it should be done in weeks. The prospect was more than exciting. 

Jaina was the first in line, eager to lend Luke and Mara her support. Anakin sat next to her, his sleeve already rolled up, waiting. The Yuuzhan Vong checked the syringe for the third time, though Jaina wasn't sure why. She held it up to the light, examining the needle with scrutiny. "What's she doing?" Anakin whispered. 

"Beats me," she answered. "Whatever works for her." 

Finally seeming satisfied, she lowered the needle and came towards Jaina, a small side smile tickling her features. "There should be little pain," she said.

Jaina just smiled encouragingly. She reached out and pinched a piece of Jaina's flesh between her fingers and brought the needle down against it. The tip was a whisper away from her flesh when Jaina's danger sense spiked, causing her to jerk away. "What's wrong?" she shaper asked nervously.

Jaina rubbed her arm, looking at it curiously. She hadn't punctured the skin. "I'm not sure. It's okay, though. Just go ahead, I'll be fine."

Nen Yim nodded and reached out again. She hadn't even touched Jaina when Anakin's hand shot out, pulling Jaina out of her grasp. "What?" she hissed.

He shot Nen Yim a venomous glare before answering. "I don't know. But warning bells are going off like crazy in my head. We shouldn't be doing this."

Jaina chewed on her lower lip. "How do you know?"

He looked around, confused. "I have no idea. Just...just don't do it, Jaina. None of us should."

"What do I tell Uncle Luke?" she demanded.

Anakin set his jaw stubbornly. "The truth. We tell him we had a bad feeling. She can fix up an antidote for a Yuuzhan Vong now and configure it later, after I have this figure out."

Jaina sighed reluctantly. "I don't know, Anakin."

His eyes narrowed cunningly. "What about you baby? If something dangerous is in that needle, do you want it anywhere near Hanna?"

Immediately Jaina recoiled, her shields flaring up in defense. That shaper wasn't getting anywhere near her and her baby. "Okay," she agreed. "But _you're_ going to explain this to Uncle Luke."


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

"I," Luke said cautiously, "I don't think I understand. You want us to _wait_ to find Mara help? When she could die any day?" Mara gave him a dirty look at this, but didn't correct him.

Jaina looked at her feet, then Anakin. _This was your idea. Just tell him._

Anakin looked at Luke. "I can't explain it. I just think we shouldn't do this yet. I'm sorry."

For the first time Jaina could ever remember, her uncle looked angry. "We have waited so long for a cure; far too long. And now we have a chance, a glimmer of a chance, to live our lives together, and you tell me to _wait_ because...because why?" he fumed.

Anakin turned to Jaina, who nodded encouragingly. They had never faced a Luke who was anything but passive before, and it was more than disconcerting. "A feeling."

"A _feeling_?" he exclaimed.

A small, deceptively weak hand shot out, grabbing hold of Luke's arm. "Luke," Mara said softly, "there's not a number large enough to total all the times I've heard you tell these kids to trust their feelings. And now that they do you get angry with them? You're letting your personal feelings cloud your vision. Calm down a little bit. Listen to them. You raise them, after all, if they have a reason it will be a valid one."

Luke seemed to diffuse at her admonishment, even take on a guilty demeanor. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

Jaina smiled gratefully at Mara and said. "It's okay, I understand. I would have behaved a lot worse had Jag been in Mara's condition."

Luke just nodded. "Tell me what you're feeling."

"Well," Jaina took over, knowing Anakin had been pushed to his limit, "when she tried to stick me my danger sense flared. And then when she did it again Anakin said there were warning bells going off. Like Mara said, you always told us to trust our instincts, so..." Jaina trailed off lamely. She looked away from the disease-torn couple to Jag, who stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest. He smiled slightly, his silent approval, giving her the needed boost to keep herself from giving in and going ahead with the procedure.

Then, "Cilghal?"

"Yes, Master Skywalker?"

Luke turned to his former pupil. "Would it make any difference in the time when the antidote would be ready to fix the Yuuzhan Vong version now and assemble it for humans later than the other way around?"

The Mon Cal took a moment to consider. "You would have to ask Nen Yim for a definite answer, but I am assuming it should be the same."

Luke looked to Mara then, and his wife nodded. Then he turned back to Jaina and Anakin and smiled. "All right then. We'll wait."

"Thank you, Uncle Luke," Jaina said, relieved.

"Wait," Anakin stopped them. "If there is reason to be worried, we need to watch her more closely, and maybe figure out why. That, or change her mind."

"I agree," Cilghal said. "Just because she has agreed to aid Mara is no reason to treat her as anything but what she is: a prisoner of war. She needs to remain under close watch." 

"And Jag and I need to leave for a while."

That started a commotion in the room as a flurry of questions were tossed their way. "What? I don't understand, why? For how long? Is that wise in your condition? Don't tell me you're going back to the frontlines?"

Jag came to stand by Jaina until the talking died down and everyone waited for an answer. Then he said, "This is a personal war we have been fighting for the last few months. But the bigger, galactic war is still going on. We're about to bring a child into this war, and that's not something Jaina and I want." He paused for a moment, smiling down at Jaina in private amusement. "We had a, uh, talk last night, about insecurities. Both of us have them, and they're mostly about Hanna and her future. To secure that future, we have to make a decisive stand. So we're going back to Coruscant, where we'll meet with the NR heads of state, Grand Admiral Pellaeon, and the Moff Council. The war has been at a virtual standstill for a while, with no conclusive winner. If we don't make a stand now we could lose in the end. So, in short, we're all going to make a plan to bring down the Yuuzhan Vong, once and for all."

Silence reigned for a few long, tense moments. Then Luke let out a long breath. "What do you want us to do while you're gone? I mean, we're staying on the _Roughshod_. Are you taking her with you? Where should be go?"

"Our friend, Commander Elkanah Eliab, is going to take over the guardianship of Bastion while we're gone. He'll temporarily captain the _Roughshod_ and we'll take the _Valorous_ to Coruscant. You all can stay here and continue with the experiment, if that's what you want."

Luke nodded slowly. "I see. Well, I don't think we have much choice, except to say have a safe trip."

Nen Yim stared at the Mon cal healer. "I do not understand."

Cilghal smiled encouragingly. "Master Skywalker believes the process will go faster if you prepare the formula first and adjust it afterwards. I hope that does not convenience you too terribly."

Nen Yim forced herself to remain calm. "Of course not. Whatever he wants. It is his wife's life, after all."

Cilghal did smiled then. "I knew you wouldn't mind. Well, shall we get started then?" 

Nen Yim was careful to keep her features passive. "I will need a few hours to recall the instructions in the cortex." 

"Certainly. Call me when you know everything you need to." With that she turned and left. Nen Yim pulled the villip out of her robes for the second time with trembling hands. She stroked it shakily, afraid she might hyperventilate. Things were going wrong, so wrong, and there was nothing she could do about it.

A very perturbed-looking Nom Anor appeared in her hands. "What is it now? Have you poisoned them?"

Nen Yim's upper lip curled back in disgust. "No, they suspect. Do you see what you have done? I had a chance, a chance to change this war and bring you all the things I have learned, but now they will kill me before I get the chance! You are a nezbit fool!"

Nom Anor didn't seem ruffled by her rantings. "Calm down. None of this is going to solve our problem. You will get your chance, if you can just keep cool long enough to do it! Just do what you have been, and everything will be fine. You have all the means you need, and there is no evidence of your betrayal. There will be none until you kill them. Do you understand?"

"I can't do this," she gulped. "I...I can't. Just send someone for me, Executor, before it's too late. I am no intendant, no spy. I am a shaper."

He gave her a patronizing look. "I have the utmost faith in you, Nen Yim. You will do your job well." With no other words, his visage faded back into the faceless orb. Nen Yim continued to stare. How could he? He had no compassion, no understanding of what he was asking her to do. She could not kill these people.

But he had left her with no choice. It was either kill them or be killed. And, true to her Yuuzhan Vong heritage, Nen Yim had been raised in just such an atmosphere. It was second nature. For a Yuuzhan Vong, there was no failure. She would do what she must. 


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Jaina twitched. She flicked her fingers in her sleep, trying to shake off the minor discomfort. The pain and numbness only intensified. Irritated, Jaina rubbed at her left hand, unsure of what she was feeling. Nothing changed. Sighing in annoyance, she carefully slid out from under Jag's sleeping form and sat on the edge of the bed. She held her hand up to her face, but in the dark she was unable to discern anything. Already awake anyway, she stood carefully and padded to the 'fresher.

She slipped inside the door, closing it behind her and plunging the small room into total darkness. She flipped on the light switch and the resulting flash nearly blinded her. She spent the next minute or so trying to recover from the change in luminosity, hand still quietly throbbing.

After she had recuperated she slid to the sink, looking at her hand with both her eyes and the mirror.

The first thing that caught her eye was the set of rings on her fourth finger. The first was a plain and undecorated band that she had received that her wedding. It had been meaningless to her for a long time, and still had less sentiment than it should because of the circumstances, but was dearer to her now than it had been then. The second was the one Jag had given her on Coruscant. It was the symbol of their renewed love, each diamond a precious reminder of their commitment.

The second thing she saw was how red and swollen the finger they were on was. Clearly the rings were restricting her blood flow, making her whole arm go numb with the lack of circulation. Jaina sighed. It was the first of many unpleasant side effects of pregnancy since the morning sickness had subsided. She was swelling.

For the first time in her whole life, Jaina felt fat. _Like an overblown Hutt_, she thought angrily. She looked up into the mirror and pulled the T-shirt of Jag's she used as a nightgown tight around her middle, appraising the slow growth. It was slight, and under all but the tightest of jumpsuits practically invisible. Jaina sighed again; that was just the way it was when you were having a baby.

He hand still ached, so she gave up the self-inspection and started to pull them off. They didn't move. Frowning, she tugged harder. The only result was an even larger red line around the finger. She sighed, pulling until she thought the whole finger would come off. She growled in frustration, looking down at the hand that now ached so bad she thought she could cry.

The kriffing thing had to come off. 

Then she did cry, because she knew what that meant. The rings weren't coming off by pulling; they were going to have to be cut. 

Jaina turned from the mirror, sliding down the wall with her eyes buried in the heels of her hand. For reasons unknown even to her she began to cry, the wetness seeping through her fingers and covering the front of her shirt. She was so absorbed in her pain and grief she didn't hear the door slide open.

"Jaina?" She looked up into her husband's concerned face. He knelt beside her, worry coloring his features. "Baby, are you okay? What's wrong? Why are you crying?" His work-worn hands wiped the tears from her face as he spoke.

Jaina, lip quivering, held up her hand wordlessly. He took it in his own, turning them around on her finger then pulling gently. When they didn't come off he let out a long breath. "You know I'm going to have to cut these off, right?" 

Jaina shook her head vigorously. "No," she sniffled. "No. Every time I look at these it reminds me how much I love you, and that you love me."

Jag tilted her head up slightly so that she was forced to look him in the eye. At that moment Jaina pitied him. On a conscious level she knew she was being irrational and that the progesterone was getting the better of her, but that didn't stop the tears or the influx of emotions. All she could do was pity him. "You don't need these to know that I love you," he smiled. "I'm here to tell you every day." He kissed her forehead softly and pulled her to her feet. "I have to go get the wire cutters." 

"No!" she said. "Jag, I love these rings! We can't ruin them."

He pulled her into and embrace. "I love them too. Believe me, after what I paid for that second one, the last thing I want to do is destroy it." His jest elicited a small laugh, but that was all. "Come on Jaina, you may be losing the rings, but look what we're getting? A baby! Isn't Hanna worth that?"

She nodded in silent agreement. "Can we replace them when we get to Coruscant?"

"Of course," he answered immediately, kissing her. "We may not be able to eat for a week or two, but hey, whatever makes you happy."

Jaina did laugh then, and kissed him back. "I love you."

"I love you too. Come on, let's get these off you."

Pellaeon smiled in a way that made Jaina wonder if that's the way her grandfather would smile at her. It was considerate and patronizing, as if directed at a young child. "Jaina, I was so delighted when I heard you and Jagged were expecting!"

Jaina smiled genuinely, self-consciously fingering the small indention around her ring finger that was conspicuously absent of metal. "Thank you. We're both very excited."

"I'm sure," he chuckled deeply. "So when is the due date?"

"Seven months," Jaina said. 

"Excellent. The war should be over by then, if our plans come through today. Jagged is coming, correct?"

Jaina nodded. "He was just running an errand for me. He'll be there at the meeting."

"Good, good. So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, sitting back down behind his large wooden desk.

"Did you read the reports on the Yuuzhan Vong prisoner of war Jag and my brother found on Ramella?"

Pellaeon nodded. "Of course, how is her interrogation going?"

"Well, we've convinced her to help cure Aunt Mara's disease."

"That's wonderful!" he exclaimed.

"But there's also a chance she could be trying to doublecross us," she explained quietly. "I just thought you should know the situation in case my mother tries to bring it up in the meeting to throw me off balance."

"How would she know?" he asked, perplexed.

"They may not be very close, but Mother and Uncle Luke _are_ twins. There's not much they can hide from each other. I'm assuming she knows a lot more than we think."

"Hmm," he said. "Well, I'm glad you told me, so I can be on my toes. But really this is more about us coming together. I doubt she will be trying to throw any kinks into our plans."

Jaina sighed heavily. "Then you obviously don't know my mother."

As the metal doors slid aside Jag peered in, not expecting to find anyone. Jacen was at war like everyone else, and it was unlikely he was going to catch him at home. But Jaina had asked him, and after how sensitive she had been lately he didn't even think of denying her. He knew she had an emotional attachment to those rings, but had never dreamed she would crumble like that when she had to get rid of them. When they had been engaged she had been so careful about hiding her emotions from him. He knew that the whole time she must have been despairing, but she never showed it. He never would have guessed. Now she wore her heart on her sleeve, and if you couldn't guess what she was feeling she would certainly tell you.

He stepped inside the Skywalker apartment. "Hello?" he called. For a moment there was nothing, and then a sound from the back of the house. A few seconds later Jacen appeared from the kitchen door, a small, blond woman trailing close behind.

"Jag?" Jacen asked, concern and delight both passing over his face.

Jag smiled slightly. "Jacen. I can't believe I actually caught you here."

"I just came from a mission on Helska," he replied, then gestured to the woman. "This is Danni Quee. She's a Force-sensitive I rescued on Helska. She's a scientist. Danni, this is my brother-in-law, Jagged Fel" 

Danni smiled, her pretty round face framed by a mass of blond curls. "Hi."

"Hello," Jag said, then turned his attention back to Jacen. "Jaina's here. She sent me to find you." 

"Why didn't I feel her?" he inquired.

Jag shrugged. "She's been shielding since she found out about the baby. Says it makes her feel more secure."

"So is she coming? When can I see her?" Jacen asked eagerly.

"She's with the Grand Admiral right now. There's going to be a big executive meeting this evening, so you might not be able to speak with her till tonight or tomorrow. She tires easily," Jag explained.

"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed. "Well, come in and sit down. Tell me about what's going on at Bastion. The last message I got from Uncle Luke said that they were waiting for this Nen Yim character to tell them if she was switching sides or not."

Jag followed them into the sitting room, wondering why this Danni Quee was in the Skywalker apartment. Jacen had said he had saved her. Maybe they both had not yet recovered. As he sat he asked, "So Danni, how is it you managed to get captured by the Yuuzhan Vong?"

The scientist blushed, looking nervous. "My ship crashed on Helska. I was an astronomer on another planet before that, and spotted their coming. I went to investigate, and, well..."

"I hope you don't mind my asking, but why are you here? In the Skywalker apartment, I mean?" 

Both Danni and Jacen's cheeks colored, but it was Jacen who answered. "Like I said, she's Force-sensitive, but never had any training. I offered to train her, at least until the war settled down and she decided if she wanted a formal master."

Jag scowled slightly. "But you aren't even a Jedi yet, right?"

Jacen's mouth worked silently for a few minutes before he managed an answer. "Well, not officially. But Uncle Luke said Jaina and I are both pretty much finished with our training."

Jag had always thought becoming a Jedi involved some big huge personal sacrifice. Even though it was a little embarrassing to think about, he had always supposed that marrying him had been Jaina's. She hadn't loved him or even liked him then, and could have easily ran away or refused. But she hadn't, just so that the galaxy she loved would be a little more secure in their peace. Really, it wasn't his call, but Jag thought if one of them deserved the title of Jedi Knight it was Jaina. Then again, his opinion was considerably biased.

After a small interval of silence Jag stood. "I should go. The meeting will start soon. I think Jaina was planning on staying with my uncle again, so why don't you drop by tomorrow? She'll be thrilled to see you. And bring Danni," he nodded to the woman. She smiled gratefully at the invitation but made no reply.

Jacen stood too, extending his hand. Jag shook it. "We will, thank you. Tell Jaina I love her. I can't wait to meet the baby."

"It's not actually born yet, you know," Jag said as he headed to the door. Jacen just smiled and tapped at his temple. Jag nodded in understanding and left.

As Jag settled into the seat beside her Jaina smiled. "Did you find him?" she whispered. 

He nodded but didn't say anything. The meeting was getting ready to begin, if the dimming of the lights and activation of the holoprojectors was any indication. Jag sat to Jaina's right, and the Moff Council to her left. On Jag's right were Jaina's mother's council members, and opposite them on the circular table was Leia and Pellaeon themselves. The Chiss had been invited to send an emissary, but had declined.

Pellaeon stood first, and as he did an image of the Battle of Ithor jumped from the individual projectors in front of them. "For those of you who weren't there, this is the Battle f Ithor. It has so far been the greatest defeat we have suffered so far, and is a primed example of the military might wielded by the Yuuzhan Vong."

A different image, this one a miniature model of their galaxy, leapt over a dozen times from the table. A few seconds later a purple swath was painted across it. A great deal of them were in Imperial Space and the Unknown Regions, but a larger amount than Jaina had expected were also in New Republic space. "These are all the worlds we have lost in this war. But they were won at a high cost. Huge amounts of the warrior caste have been wiped out, and now the enemy are at their most vulnerable. What we need is to draw them away from these worlds, trap them, and destroy them. No mercy, no compromise. When this campaign is over, the only Yuuzhan Vong I want left alive are the Shamed Ones, Shapers, and Intendants."

The individual galaxies continued to rotate in front of them as the Grand Admiral let his statement sink in. Then, "This is what has to happen if we want to win. Our problem, and reason for this meeting, is to decide how. Ideas? Anyone?"

A council member from Rodia raised her hand then rasped, "How are we going to draw them into this trap?"

"Good question, and one I believe Chief of State Organa Solo can answer."

Jaina's mother stood, her signature white robes swirling around her too-slim figure. "This is going to be difficult for everyone to accept, me not least of all, but if it means the destruction of the enemy I think we should all be able to handle it. What we are suggesting is that we retreat." At the outburst of negativity she stopped, waiting till everyone calmed down.

"I think I know where this is going," Jag whispered.

"Me too," Jaina agreed. 

"What I am saying is that we abandon our posts and head to wherever it is we decide we want to make our last stand. If the whole galaxy is there for the taking, and if their only opposition is gathered in one place, we can all but guarantee their first move will be to throw all of their power at us in an attempt to crush us indefinitely."

"So your saying we have an all-out slug-fest and whoever wins gets the galaxy?" Jag asked, incredulous.

"Basically," Pellaeon answered. "Do you have any better ideas, General?"

Jag remained silent. Jaina barely noticed. A small idea was tickling the back of her mind, but she couldn't just grasp it. What was it?

"So, does anyone have any ideas or suggestions?" It was quiet for a long moment. Then Jaina had it. Her eyes shot up and her head snapped up, heart racing.

"The Maw," she gasped.

"What?" Pellaeon asked.

"The Maw!" she said, standing. "We retreat to the maw! They can't navigate the routes as well as we can, we could slaughter them there. We corner their whole fleet, and all we have to do is back them into a black hole and _whoop!_, they're all gone!"

There was complete silence for a few seconds and then Leia said, "You know the same thing could just as easily happen to us?"

"Not if we position our fleet right with their entry vector. All we need is a little planning and a big fleet. We won't even have that many casualties," she explained. 

"I think it's brilliant," Pellaeon said.

"Me too," Jag agreed.

The Moff Council sounded their agreement, along with several of the New Republic senators. It was Leia who was conspicuous in her silence. "Chief of State?" Jaina asked.

Leia looked at her appraisingly. "I think it's riskier than we need to be."

Jaina ground her teeth in irritation. "No plan is foolproof."

"I'll consider it," Leia said, standing. "We'll meet again tomorrow."

As the gathering dispersed Jaina turned angrily to Jag. "She wants something."

Jag sighed as he stood. "Whatever it is, if we want this plan to work I suggest we give it to her."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40-Interlude from the beginning of story**

The comm unit in the outer office rang loudly and the sound of his secretary's voice answering it came unwelcome to his ears. Jag kept his head bent over the computer, furiously studying the data. He didn't want to speak to her.

The intercom from the outer to the inner office beeped once, and then the stern Csillian voice spoke directly to him. "Colonel, Mrs. Fel wishes to speak to you. Should I page her through?"

For a moment Jag considered declining. It was tempting, but the repercussions were too dire to give it much thought. "Go ahead." Still he kept his eyes focused on his notes and documents, paying no mind to his mother's face as it jumped from the holoprojector on the corner of his desk.

"Jagged," she said with her usual cheerfulness.

"Mother," he replied evenly, still refusing to look directly at her.

She was quiet for a moment, and he could feel her knowing eyes boring into the side of his face. He didn't care. She could think whatever she wanted of him, he was not going to pretend to be okay. He hated this, this, _thing_ they were forcing him to do, and there was no way he was going down without a fight. "Jagged, Miss Solo's ship just arrived in the system. It would be a good start if you would be there to meet her when she landed."

"No thanks," he said flippantly. "I'm busy."

"She'll need someone to show her the apartment we bought. You need to go see it anyway." 

Jag let out a long breath through his nose, then continued his study. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Jagged—" 

Jag spun around angrily, looking at her for the first time. "I said no! I don't want anything to do with her."

Syal's gaze was compassionate. "I understand. Believe me, you can't be any more upset over this than I am. But alienating her is only going to make your life harder. You might as well start things off on the right foot."

Jag stared at her stoically. "No."

She scowled at him. "Where are your manners, young man? You're only making a difficult situations worse. You can't let her spend her first night here without even meeting you."

"I would rather not," he said, keeping his voice carefully controlled.

She sighed heavily. "You should at least try. I taught you better than this."

"I don't remember any of your lessons that spoke of the proper etiquette when you meet your bride-to-be," he replied, barely restraining the angry tremor from his voice.

She pursed her lips sadly. "You're a grown man. Do what you want; but remember, you're going to have to spend the rest of your life with this girl. The foundation of your relationship can start now. Do you want her thinking ill of you from the beginning? Don't answer that. Just think about it. Goodnight, Jagged."

"Goodnight, Mother," he said, watching her image fizzle out as the connection was cut. After a few seconds of pondering her words he went back to his work, stubbornly keeping his resolve to hate the woman who was ending his life.

Jag sat back and looked at the chrono hanging on the wall for the seventh time. She would have arrived at the apartment by now. She would be planning out the quarters that would be their home. She would most likely wondering where he was.

Jag ran a tired hand over his brow. This was hardly how he had planned his life to be. He wanted be a general someday, a commander with a fleet of his own. He wanted freedom, independence, the joy of rising to the occasion and besting your peers. It was in that environment that he thrived, that he _craved_. He would never have that now.

He could see it clearly in his mind's eye. Middle-aged with no accolades or honors to his name, coming home from the same office to a pompous, trumped-up wanna-be princess who he didn't and never could love. It was almost more depressing than he could bare.

Why was this happening to him? Why _him_? He had so much he wanted to do before he settled down. He didn't need or want a wife. He was only eighteen! He had so much living to do before he settled down. And what if he _hated_ her? He wasn't far from it already.

_Where are your manners?_ his mother had asked him. She was right of course, like always. He wasn't helping things by being rude. She was the one leaving her family and life behind after all. He could at least attempt to be civil.

Intent, he hit the intercom. "Colonel?" his secretary asked.

"Call the apartment my parents rented," he said. "Ask Miss Solo to meet me at the Fantasy for dinner tonight at 2000 hours."

"Yes, sir," she clipped. 

Jag chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, reminding himself of his mother's words. He could at least be civil.

Jag swallowed hard, closing his eyes and trying to calm his racing pulse. He couldn't do this, he couldn't. It was too hard. He didn't want to see her, speak to her, anything. He never should have asked her to meet him. Quietly he reminded himself that this was his home planet, he had invited her, he had the upper hand. He could decide how long to stay. He would just stay long enough to eat, and then leave.

Civil.

He turned the corner and went through the door, nodding to the blue-skinned man behind the desk. The man checked for reservations, then looked up, his red eyes confirming what Jag already knew. He continued through the restaurant out onto the balcony where most people flocked to. The artificial crashing of the waves and the smell of salty sea air assaulted his senses. He licked his lips and looked around.

All he saw was an ocean of blue faces and red eyes. He searched carefully, scanning every table, every person—

He stopped short. Amid the crowd of Chiss was a woman, her back turned to him. Chestnut hair was pinned at the top of her head, her black dress revealing a slender figure and a muscular back. It ended a mid-thigh, long creamy legs continuing the rest of the way, ending in small black heels. Jag froze.

That was not what he had expected. In truth, he had imagined a too-thin, stuffy little woman with large glasses and a big nose. Actually, she could still have a big nose. He hadn't seen her face yet after all.

And then she turned, picking up her water glass by the stem and sipping delicately, exposing her profile perfectly to him. No, her face was as exquisite as the rest of her. But that didn't matter, he reminded himself, his mind having gone temporarily numb. She was here to end his life. He was just going to be civil...


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Leia smiled as Jaina entered, the smile Jaina had seen her use a thousand times at political functions. Jaina didn't return it. Instead she began without preamble, "Don't you know it's unwise to cross a hormonal pregnant woman, especially a Jedi one?" She continued into the middle of the family room, the last place she had seen her father before he died.

Leia's smile remained fixed, if a bit stiff. "Funny, I hadn't been informed of the happy event until _Pellaeon_ mentioned it to me."

"Is that what this is about?" Jaina questioned, putting her hands on her hips. "Because that's really rather petty of you, Mother, especially when you know I'm right."

Leia rose gracefully, the vestiges of her smile now gone. "Petty, to be upset over hearing from the leader of another government that your daughter is having a baby? Do you even know what you're getting yourself into? For Force's sake, Jaina, you're not old enough to be having a baby!"

Jaina licked her lips, fighting back her anger. "You assumed I was old enough to get married. What makes this any different?"

"It's a wholly different responsibility," Leia stated flatly.

Jaina felt the edges of her mouth quirk upward. "How would you know? You never had any children."

Leia scowled at the comment. "I thought we'd walked this road."

"So did I. Why are you doing this?"

Leia met her eyes then, and all Jaina could see in them was sadness. "Is this a foreshadowing of what is to come? Am I to be excluded from the life of my grandchild?"

Jaina took a few shallow breaths, not sure what to say. "I...I never really thought about it. But why would you want to? She would just be another responsibility for you to ignore."

Leia looked hurt. "When I pulled the Republic into this war I thought I was mending the rift between us. I thought we could start over. I want to know my granddaughter. You did say she was a girl?"

Jaina swallowed hard, observing the woman who had given birth to her. Then, "We're naming her Hanna."

Leia's countenance softened, her eyes misting. She sat, seemingly weak-kneed. "Han would have loved that."

Jaina fought back her own tears, the progesterone once again having its cruel effect on her. Even without that it was a painful thought, remembering the loss of her father. "Sometimes it's hard to believe he's gone."

Leia nodded, wiping her eyes. "I've woken up before without him there and simply thought he must be in the 'fresher. I've even yelled for him, asking where he's at. Then I remember and..." She stopped, choking on her words, unable to go on.

Jaina sat, most of her anger fading to make room for grief. "Do you really want to know Hanna, or is this just another game? Because I swear mother, if it is—"

Leia was already shaking her head. "I see this as another chance, another chance to redeem myself. To make up for all that I've done. I'm going to be the best grandmother in the galaxy."

Jaina laughed in spite of herself. "I think you and Syal will have to fight that one out."

Leia smiled. "Does Syal know?" 

Jaina nodded. "She's thrilled."

"I thought she would be. We were both so excited to see you two marry again. It was disappointing that you left before you could." There was no mistaking the hint in her tone and eyes.

Jaina pursed her lips, sitting back. This again. "Don't you think this should be our decision? Especially since the first one wasn't?"

Leia gave her her most innocent look. "I didn't say anything."

"Of course you didn't. Thanks, but no thanks. If we remarry, it will be in our own time, and after this is over. Which reminds me, are you going to support the plan I proposed or not? You know it will work." 

Leia shrugged as if it was of little consequence. "Yes, of course. Don't worry."

Jaina stood, readying herself to leave. "Thank you. I'll see you at the meeting, then."

Leia nodded, if a bit sadly. "I'll see you then."

Mara sat down next to the shaper who was going to save her life. She didn't look at her, but rather the scene in front of them. This particular room on the _Roughshod_ had a transparisteel wall and roof, giving a wide view to the expanse of space. Bastion hung on the edge of the viewport, making its slow yearly curve around the sun. Mara had been there several times in her youth as the Emperor's Hand, but never for more than a few hours. She had never stayed anywhere long. But Bastion was a different place now, as was everything else she had once known, including herself.

"Do you ever wonder at how people's live can change in an instant?" she asked into the air more than to the Yuuzhan Vong beside her.

"No," Nen Yim answered readily. "The only thing that changes the Yuuzhan Vong life instantly is death."

Mara ran an affectionate hand over her swollen stomach. She was over a month closer to her due date than Jaina, but the extra time showed. Though she wasn't nearly as large as she would be, Cilghal assured her, it was readily apparent that she was carrying a child. "Well it does. I was an assassin, once. And in one moment my whole life came crashing down around me. I had no purpose, no direction, no connections or places to go. I was utterly alone. And now...well, now I'm a Jedi Master, have a husband, a baby, and a job. There's so much to live for."

Nen Yim didn't answer, just flicked the digits on her shaper's hand.

Mara smiled. "I have so much to live for. And if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have that option. Now my child will have a mother, and that is a debt I can never repay you."

She refused to meet the Jedi Master's eyes. Mara continued.

"I had never even considered having children, even after I met Luke. We had already lived so much of our lives apart, we were past the age most people had children. It would have been inconvenient, and unrealistic. But now that it's happened, I can't imagine a future without him." 

Nen Yim muttered something in her mother tongue.

"What?" Mara asked.

Nen Yim stood suddenly, her living robes twirling angrily around her disheveled frame. "I cannot do it," she blabbered, the reverted back to Vong. She began to pace, gesturing wildly and speaking in frantic, hurried sentences Mara didn't understand. Mara watched her, not sure what had set or off or what it was about. Her hand trailed nervously to her lightsaber, but she sensed no danger.

"Nen—" she tried, but was interrupted. "Nen Yim!"

She didn't listen. Instead, she pulled a small brownish orb from the folds of her robe. Mara had seen one like it before, but for the life of her could not remember where. To her surprise, the shaper threw it forcefully onto the deck and proceeded to stomp it vigorously. When she was done she stood panting over the mess she had made, wild eyed. Slowly Mara stood. "Master Shaper, are you all right?"

Nen Yim shook her head. "Now you must kill me. Let me die an honorable death, without letting my people no of my shameful infidelity."

Mara took a slow step forward. She reached out in the Force, alerting Luke to the fact that something was wrong. "I don't want to kill you, Nen Yim. You have done nothing but help us."

The Yuuzhan Vong turned her gaze away. "My shame is great. I am kin to none, traitor to all. I have no home."

Mara swallowed hard. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

"The truth changes nothing. Kill me, and know that it is just."

Mara smiled softly, trying to assuage her fears. "I'm not going to kill you. You are my friend." 

"No!" she screamed. "No. I am not."

"Why?" she asked.

There was a long, tense pause. "I could not do it."

Mara extended a tentative hand, letting it come to rest on the tatooed shoulder. "What couldn't you do?"

She licked her tattered lips, sorrow filling her eyes. "I am not what you think. I am a spy, a traitor. I am here to poison you and the ones you love. I already would have, but you're damned Jedi sorcery prevented me."

Mara recoiled, not knowing what to think. She wasn't sure which was more shocking, the fact that they had trusted her or the fact that she had confessed.

"I deserve your hate," Nen Yim continued. "But I could not do it. What has happened to you is wrong, even if it was my people who did it. You, and Luke, and Anakin, and Cilghal—none of you deserve death. There is no malice in you. I am ashamed of the barbarity of the Yuuzhan Vong. We have fallen from our once-great race."

Mara's eyes widened at the admission. This was all too much. "What—what was that thing you just destroyed?"

Nen Yim sighed. "It is my villip. I was to use it in emergencies. When I was captured I did, and my contact told me to kill you all."

"And you didn't," Mara breathed.

"No. If I was to slay your child, and Jaina's, I could not live with myself, even if it was my own salvation."

Mara nodded. "Thank you."

The shaper straighted, raising her chin. "And now you know. So kill me, I do not fear death."

"No," Mara whispered. "But we need to go talk to Luke."

Anakin sat back, a triumphant grin on his face. "I knew it. See, and you all didn't believe me."

"We believed you, Anakin," Luke said distractedly, still eyeing the shaper. "Now the question is what to do with you now."

"I ask only for an honorable death," she whispered.

He shook his head slowly. "You saved us all, Nen Yim. I would not kill you. But I would ask, where does your allegiance lie?"

She sighed heavily. "My people will never forgive my transgression. And truthfully, I would not have them. They have forsaken me to you, and have no interest in a logical end to this war. They are foolish in their pride, and it will be their downfall. They will not let me save them, and I will not die with them."

Luke smiled. "Perhaps there's a way for you to save them still."

The shaper looked uncertain. "You would help me? How?"

He stood, his eyes roving over everyone in turn. "It will take a lot of time, a lot of planning, and a great deal of risk and faith. But it can be done, if you are willing, Nen Yim."

She looked up at him, eyes full of hope. "Tell me."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

Jaina gently extracted herself from Iella's embrace. "This is so exciting!" the older woman beamed. "Oh, I'm so happy for the both of you."

Wedge gave Jag a hearty slap on the back, grinning broadly. "Congratulations, Fel. I'm going to love watching the two of you attempt to handle this."

"Wedge!" Iella admonished, but he just smiled in return. "Don't pay him any mind. You will be wonderful parents," she told the young couple. "But come on in, we were just about to start dinner."

"I hope we're not intruding," Jaina said. "It's just you let us stay here the last time, and we didn't really have any other place to stay, seeing as Jacen seems to have company."

"Oh, it's fine," Iella answered, leading them into the kitchen. "We love having you here, no trouble at all. It's so great just to have a tie to Syal. I know how much Wedge has missed her."

"She spoke of you often," Jag said to Wedge. "I think she felt guilty for letting you believe she was dead all those years."

Wedge smiled again, but this time with a tinge of sadness. "It was wonderful to see her again at the signing of the peace treaty. She hasn't changed a bit."

They all took a seat at the dinner table, where Myri and Syal already sat. "So is it a boy or a girl?" Iella questioned.

"A girl," Jag answered.

"We're naming her Hanna," Jaina finished proudly.

Wedge looked at his holddaughter fondly. "Han would have been so proud of you. I know it was difficult at times, but he really loved you kids. I remember, I was there when he and Leia decided to let Luke have full custody of the three of you. He was depressed for months. In fact, I don't think he ever got over it."

Jaina forked her food sadly. "I wish things could have been different. But I appreciate what he tried to do for us."

There was an uncomfortable silence where no one was sure what to say. Finally Iella said, "How did the meeting today go?"

"I think we have a plan," Jag answered. "It was Jaina's idea, actually. I won't tell you what it is yet, because we haven't finalized things, but Jaina went to see Leia today and we're pretty sure she'll back it."

"I was surprised not to see you there," Jaina said to Wedge.

"I was asked to come," he said. "But I didn't really see the point. I'm more of a in-the-action kind of strategist. You tell me where, when, and what, and I'll figure out the best way to do it. I leave the other stuff to the politicians."

"So who's this company of Jacen's? A Danni Quee, right?" Iella asked.

"I don't know, Jag was the one who saw her," Jaina said, looking at her husband expectantly.

"Well," Jag said, "I think Jacen said she was a scientist. An astronomer. Force-sensitive, too. He rescued her from Helska, I think. Anyway, she wants to become a Jedi and in the absence of a real master he's training her." 

Jaina snorted derisively at the comment. "Yeah. Right. Like he's a professional. And I can't see him leaving the front lines to train a new recruit, especially since we haven't been officially knighted yet. I think there's more to this."

Iella smiled knowingly. "I've seen her. She's very pretty. I just wanted to know if you all had met her yet."

"She's seems nice enough," Jag said nonchalantly. Jaina looked pale.

"You don't think he likes her, do you?"

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Wedge smirked.

"Yes, it would," Jaina scowled. "Jacen's not old enough for something like that."

At this both the Antilles' laughed uproariously, and even Jag had to fight down a smile. "Uh, you do realize you're twins, right?" he grinned. 

"Well, yeah," she stumbled. "But that's different." 

"How?" Wedge asked. "You're married and expecting a baby, but your brother who's the same age can't have a girlfriend?" 

Jaina looked at her hands. "I'm just a little protective, I guess. I don't want him to get hurt."

"That's understandable," Iella said. About then Syal started to yawn, lids drooping over big blue eyes. Myri looked tired, too, her tiny hands twirling the fork around her dinner lackadaisically. "I think someone's ready for bed."

"Nuh-uh," Syal protested. 

"Come on, go wash up. I'll come say goodnight in a minute," she instructed in a motherly tone.

Syal went to do as instructed without further protests, but Myri slid out of her chair and went to climb onto Jag's lap. "Will you read me a story?" she asked.

Jag looked at her speechlessly, then to Wedge and Iella. "Go ahead," the former CorSec agent said. "It's fine." 

"Yeah," Jaina smiled behind the rim of her glass, "it'll be good practice."

Jag gave her a dirty look, then slid Myri off his lap and stood. Boldly she wrapped her hand around one finger and tugged, pulling him along reluctantly.

"_The Three Little Bimm_," Jag said, frowning. "How interesting."

Myri smiled up at him contentedly, sliding the disc into the holoprojector and waiting for him to read the words off the screen. Jag sighed as he settled into the chair beside her. "Okay, let's see. Once upon a time, there were three little Bimm..."

Jaina peered through the doorway, taking in the spectacle with a mixture of amusement and fondness. Jag sat in the chair beside the small bed, Myri looking at the still images that rotated with the story. Jag's discomfort was apparent, which made it all the more humorous and endearing. "Wait," Myri interrupted. "How did the Howlrunner get to Bimmisaari?"

Jag frowned, obviously perplexed by the question. "Does it matter?" 

She nodded vigorously. "Howlrunners don't live on Bimmisaari. You expect me to believe one just showed up, right when the poor little Bimm was trying to build his flimsiplast house?" 

Jag sighed heavily. "Okay. Um, it came with traders from Kamar. It got loose while they were unloading."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response, and motioned for him to continue. Jaina kept watching. "And so finally the Howlrunner came to the last little Bimm's house, made from ferrocrete. And he said, 'if you don't come out I'll blow your house down'."

"He was going to blow down a house made of _ferrocrete_?" Myri exclaimed. "He can't do that."

"Well technically he can't talk, either," Jag muttered.

"He could have growled it," Myri said staunchly. "But he can't blow down a house made of ferrocrete."

"Fine," Jag said. "He used a his H3-1 Heavy Artillery laser cannon."

Myri's eyes grew wide in astonishment. "Will that blow a hole through ferrocrete?"

"You bet," he nodded. "You could bust a hole through the side of a Star Destroyer with one of those babies."

"So then what happens?"

Apparently deciding to abandon the written text for a more plausible improvisation he said, "Blew the whole building to pieces. Nothing left but dust."

"But what about the little Bimms?"

"Well that does present a problem, doesn't it?" he murmured to himself. "Uh, they got out first. They had a swoop bike stashed in the basement and made a clean getaway before the first shot was fired."

"Really?" she asked.

"Sure," he smiled. She grinned up at him contentedly, then settled back under the sheets of her bed. 

"Goodnight, Jag."

Jag bent and kissed her forehead lightly, then got up and left the room, turning the lights out as he went. He closed the door and turned, then finally saw Jaina standing there, arms folded across her chest and a soft smile playing across her lips. "What?" he asked.

She went to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning against his chest. "A laser cannon?" she laughed gently.

He ran his hand through her hair fondly. "Hey, it's more likely than that other version. Do they really expect kids to buy that?"

Jaina pulled away slightly, but only enough so that she could lead him down the hall to their temporary room. "We'll just have to wait and see what Hanna thinks, won't we?"

He stopped then, tugging her back into his embrace. "Do you realize that in just a couple of years we're going to have a little girl just like that? Isn't that scariest thing you can imagine?"

Slowly she shook her head. "No. It would be a whole lot scarier facing it without you."

He looked at her seriously for a minute, then broke into a broad smile. "I wonder, for how young an age do they start making speeder bikes?"

She laughed loudly, leaning up to kiss him softly. "I'm sure she'll be more than capable of beating all the other little Imperials."

"Of course, I'll teach her all the tricks. She'll know every maneuver in the book," he said.

She grinned slyly, then tugged him in the direction they had been heading. "Where are we going?" he asked.

Jaina look over her shoulder and smiled, her brown eyes twinkling. "I was hoping you could show me some of those maneuvers. But if you're too busy..." 

His eyebrows shot up and he followed obediently. "I live to serve."

Commander Elkanah Eliab scratched his head reluctantly. "I'm not sure Jaina and Jag would want me to release her. I kind of got the impression she's a prisoner of war, not free to do what she wants. And I _know_ the Admiral won't like it."

Luke breathed deeply, trying to remain calm. He was a Jedi Master, after all. "Jaina is a Jedi, and answers to me. And I say that we need a ship to send Nen Yim home in. Are you going to give it to us or not?" That wasn't technically true, but Eliab didn't know that.

The commander licked his lips nervously. "I don't like this. I don't take orders from you, and if this isn't what the Admiral wants..."

"Bugger the Admiral," Mara snarled beside him. "We need a ship. Now, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. It's your choice. See, either you be a nice little Imperial and hand over a ship, or we take one. Now, that would make a whole lot of complications, don't you think? Lot's of paperwork and messy political stuff you really don't want involved in. I advise you to consider our generous offer to go through the proper channels and commission us a ship. Now."

Eliab swallowed hard. "If this is against regulations it's going to be your heads."

"We take full responsibility," Luke said soothingly. Mara's abrasiveness seemed to have done the trick for now, but they didn't want to go too far.

"Okay," he breathed. "There's a small light freighter we can spare. I don't think Jaina will like us depleting the _Roughshod_'s stash, though."

"_I'll_ take care of Jaina," Mara stated flatly. "You worry about getting that thing up and running."

He nodded reluctantly and turned to follow her commands. "That worked well," Luke said when he was out of earshot.

Mara shook her head tiredly and leaned on his arm. "It was about all I could muster. I'm so tired, Luke."

"I know," he whispered sadly. "We should get you back to the apartment. But you've done well. You had me believing you were ready to tear the poor boy to pieces."

"It wasn't hard," she grumbled. "All these mood swings are really getting the best of me. I hate being so touchy."

"Well for once it's come in handy. And after the baby's born everything will go back to normal."

"If I live that long," she whispered.

"Now don't you start saying things like that," he admonished harshly. "Nen Yim is going to leave Cilghal everything she needs to prepare an antidote. You'll be as good as new in no time."

"I hope you're right," she sighed. "Do you think this plan will work?"

"We have nothing to lose if it doesn't," he said, steering her towards the turbolifts. "It all depends on our shaper friend. I hope it does work, personally. So many lives, including Yuuzhan Vong ones, will be saved. That's all can ask for."

"If the high-ups don't kill her on sight," Mara reminded him. "Think she can fool them?"

"Fooled us, didn't she? And they don't even have the Force."

"True," she nodded. "I guess there's nothing to do but wait and see."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Nen Yim stared at the hulking piece of infidel blasphemy that would most likely become her tomb. No intelligent, rational commander was going to allow her to land that on a worldship. This plan of Luke's, it was folly. But what other choice did she have? "This is madness," she muttered with a resigned air.

"I agree," Cilghal said. "But crazier plans have succeeded. Who would have ever thought one X-wing with assistance from a dilapidated Corellian light freighter could have destroyed the Death Star?"

"The what?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"The Death Star," Cilghal said matter-of-factly, running a webbed finger over the hull of the newly refurbished ship. "It was a huge space station, I guess about the size of one of your worldships. It had the power to destroy a planet with one laser blast."

Nen Yim snorted, unimpressed. "Our dovin basals have been known to do much worse."

"Alas, our galaxy is no stranger to worse terrors as well," Cilghal continued.

"Such as what?" Nen Yim questioned, not sure why she wanted to know.

"The Sun Crusher, for one," Cilghal said. "One of our own Jedi, while in the clutches of the dark side, used it to make a star go supernova. It killed billions." 

Nen Yim's heart skipped a beat. So it was true. The infidels did have the power to destroy a star. With those simple words the final nail in the Yuuzhan Vong's coffin was hammered in. There was no hope for them if she didn't succeed. Their fate rested with her. Totally. "Great gods," she whispered, feeling suddenly faint. 

"What is it?" Cilghal asked, taking her arm and easing her to the floor, then sitting beside her.

"How? How can you destroy a star? Could you replicate this? Will you use it against us?" she stammered, hoping against hope that if they still had the ability to do so they already would have.

"I suppose a duplicate of the Sun Crusher could be made," Cilghal mused. "But the Jedi would never support it. It is too dangerous of a weapon, and if given into the wrong hands spells doom for all of us."

The shaper breathed a silent thanks to Yun-Yuuzhan, but only felt slightly less shaky. "That is a good thing."

"Yes," the Jedi healer said thoughtfully. "I suppose it is. But why does it matter?"

"There would be no hope for the Yuuzhan Vong if such weapons were available to you. But since it is within the range of your capabilities, I know now that I must succeed. Failure is death, for us all."

Cilghal cocked her huge pinkish head in thought. "Would all Yuuzhan Vong be as afraid of the Sun Crusher as you are?"

Nen Yim nodded sadly. She didn't like where this was going. She had agreed to this only so that at least a portion of her people might survive the war. She would go back to them, tell Nom Anor and the Supreme Overlord that she had triumphed and the greatest of the _Jeedai_ were dead. Luke and Mara would stay out of the public's eye, not be seen again till the war was over. To the intendants planted across the galaxy it would seem that she had done as she said. The lack of Holonet coverage could be explained away on _Jeedai_ arrogance. The New Republic would not want the citizens of the galaxy to know that their greatest hero had been slain. All the while the crafty shaper would spread dissent, mostly among the lower ranks. She would tell them what she had seen, and that when the time was right they should rise up against the warrior caste if they wanted to live. But with the Sun Crusher, none of this would be relevant or needed.

"This could work to our advantage," Cilghal said, standing.

"No," Nen Yim said. "I will not let you."

Slowly she shook her head. "You misunderstand me. Tell those who will listen that we have such a power. Fear may drive them to acquiesce. If all hope is gone, what other choice do they have?"

"They will kill themselves before they will surrender to you," Nen Yim stated flatly.

"Even the Shamed Ones? If you promise them that they will find themselves equals among us, that they won't be ridiculed and beaten and treated as beasts of burden... don't you think they'll do as you say?" 

Nen Yim looked around warily. It could work. Fear was a useful tool, as was the promise of power. It had long been known that those of the lower ranks would do anything to exalt themselves above their masters. Perhaps this would be their chance. For Nen Yim, however, it was not the ideal situation. She did not see herself living the rest of her days with Shamed Ones. It was distasteful in the extreme. Would her ploy work on those higher up? Other shapers, priests? She held no hope for the warriors. They would kill themselves, or throw themselves in a headlong bloodbath against the New Republic that would do more harm than good. But perhaps, with a little help, she could convince those of her own caste, possibly the priests. Yes, it could work.

"I think the Shamed Ones will jump at the chance to bring themselves equal with their governors. As for the others...I must try, no matter. Yes, this Sun Crusher, it will be good leverage," she nodded sagely.

Cilghal smiled and stood, and extended her hand to Nen Yim. Almost without thinking she took it, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "Then we must go and tell the others, so we can prepare."

"I don't like this," Anakin said. "There has to be a better way."

"I know, Anakin, lying to Jaina isn't the smartest move we could make. But it's necessary, especially if our communication lines are tapped like Nen Yim assures us they are," Luke said. "If she knew it could mean the success of Nen Yim's mission I'm sure Jaina would think it was worth it. I hate worrying her, it goes against my every instinct, but she's a smart girl. She'll find out in time."

Anakin turned to look at the holorecorder, currently switched off. "She's going to kill me." 

"Don't worry," Mara said with a smirk, "if it's a lightsaber fight I'm pretty sure you can take her. She still doesn't practice like she needs to."

"I don't think she'll believe me, anyway. I'm no Face Loran," Anakin said unenthusiastically.

"You'll do fine," Luke said, patting him on the shoulder. "I just hope she can forgive us. I can't believe we're deceiving her like this. I know that it's the best thing, but I don't like it either. Just get it over with, Anakin." 

With a sigh the young Jedi turned to the holoprojector and flipped it on. "Here goes nothing."

Jaina's eyes snapped open, her heart pounding. One hand went immediately to her stomach, the other to the lightsaber she kept under her pillow. A half second later she heard Jag stand, moving to the transponder in the corner of their room. "What is it?" she gasped into the dark. A feeling of dread had settled on her, and she couldn't shake it off. Something bad had happened, she just knew it.

"It's just the comm unit," he said soothingly. "They're probably having some mini-emergency on the _Valorous_ that one of my subordinates should be taking care of. Don't worry, go back to sleep."

His words did nothing. She was already rolling out of bed in a flurry of angry sheets, her hair twirling about her like a messy halo. Desperation settled on her shoulders, weighing down her heart like an anchor. Something bad had happened. "Let me see," she gasped, pushing him unceremoniously out of the way. As she sat at the desk, fingers typing in the authorization codes she knew by heart, she reached out with the Force to Hanna. She was startled, a little afraid from the emotions Jaina was giving off, but otherwise fine. Jaina wrapped her in a cocoon on protectiveness, shooing away all the bad emotions until her child felt safe and loved again.

Finally the comm unit whirred and clicked, then an image of her youngest brother appeared before her. He looked harried and stricken, eyes bloodshot and moist. Jaina barely breathed as she waited for the message to play. "Jaina, I don't know what to do," he began. "She's gone, and they're dying—I just don't know what to do." 

"Who's dying?!" she screamed at the hologram, even though she knew it was a recording and he couldn't hear her.

He looked around anxiously, the tears in his eyes finally brimming over onto his cheeks. "Aunt Mara's already gone, Cilghal and Uncle Luke are fading fast. I told them not to do it, but they wouldn't listen! Jaina, they were just so eager to find a cure... and Nen Yim's already gone! We searched the whole ship, the only thing we can figure is that she stole a freighter."

He collapsed momentarily, lowering his chin to his chest and shuddering as he wept. After a moment he raised his head, the firm set of his jaw letting her know he had at least temporarily regained his composure. "I can't help them, nothing is helping. They're slipping... Jaina, you have to come back! I just don't know what to do, I need you to help me. Please, hurry, before it's too late." The image fizzled quietly into nothingness.

Jaina leaned back in her chair, grief overcoming her like a tidal wave she was powerless to hold at bay. Jag dropped to his knees beside her, wrapping both arms around her shoulders and pulling her to him. Jaina sobbed quietly, pressing her face against his shoulder. She couldn't lose Uncle Luke, he was her strength, her idol, her _father_. He had filled the void in her life without Han, he had raised her, loved her, protected her. How could she ever feel safe again if he died?

"We have to go to him," she stammered, pulling away from her husband and attempting to stand. "Come on, hurry, we have to hurry!" She grabbed at his hand that kept trying to pull her back down and tugged, trying to get him to realize the urgency.

"Jaina," he said softly. "Honey, don't do this. Come on, think for a second—"

"I am thinking!" she shouted. She ran to their closet and began throwing their belongings into a suitcase. "You aren't helping me!"

"Jaina," he said, but she continued to throw their clothes into the baggage in messy heaps. Finally he took her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her into an embrace, pinning her arms to her sides. She struggled for a moment, then collapsed into a sobbing heap against him. "I know," he said softly. "I know. Just...just listen a minute, okay?"

"What?" she hiccuped.

"Can we know that that was really Anakin?" 

"Of course it was Anakin! Didn't you see—"

"I saw," he cut her off. "But Luke and Mara and Cilghal are reasonable people. Rational. Would they do something like that, especially with Anakin there trying to talk them out of it? Things don't add up, Jaina. What does the Force tell you?"

Jaina slowly calmed her mind, clearing it of all thoughts in a Jedi relaxation technique. Slowly she reached out to Jacen. He had always been the one to pick her up when she was down, and she could only pray he would do it again. She found him blissfully asleep and unaware. If Uncle Luke was dying and Aunt Mara dead, wouldn't he have felt it? Had _she_ felt it? No, she supposed not. It had been more like an uneasy dread that could have been a biproduct of her danger sense. It could have been letting her know she was about to hear something she didn't want to.

What about Uncle Luke himself? She stretched further, hunting vigorously for him in the void between the stars. He wasn't hard to find. The Force shown in him like a star, a beacon in the darkness that all things were drawn to. And he was alive.

Her legs suddenly lost the ability to hold her upright, and she half-sat half-fell onto their bed. "He lied to me," she whispered.

Jag knelt in front if her, taking her hand in his own. "How do you know it was even Anakin?" 

"It was," she said staunchly. "I know my brother. But why would he do something so terrible to me?"

"There has to be a reason," Jag said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her. "What could it be?"

Jaina slowly shook her head. "What would be the point of sending me something like this?" 

"Maybe," Jag said slowly, "they needed you to be convinced they were dead so that others would be convinced they were dead."

Slowly the light began to shine in Jaina's mind, her numb brain regaining it's thought processes. "If that's what it is, I need to do my job and play my part."

"You mean act like they're dead?"

"Yeah," she said. "We can't tell people though, because everyone will be mad when we tell them they're actually alive. Anakin said to come back...maybe if we do go back it will seem to anyone watching that I believe what they've sent me." 

"What about the meeting tomorrow?"

Jaina stood, now fully recovered from the brief trauma. "I'll send Jacen." 

"Jacen isn't an emissary of the Empire," he said.

"No, but he's my brother, and I trust that he'll do and say everything right," she explained, taking their belongings out of the baggage, folding them, and repacking. "Either way, we have to go. They would never do this to me if it wasn't completely essential to whatever they're doing."

"I hope it's not something we're going to regret them not consulting us on later," Jag said, helping her pack.

"Me too. Can you finish here while I call Jacen? No, I better not, if someone heard it would ruin the charade. I'll just tell him to come over."

"Should I wake Wedge and Iella?" 

"Probably," she agreed, "it is their apartment. We need still need to hurry, though, when we leave out of here it has to look frantic."

"I think running out of the apartment in our nightclothes with piles of suitcases and your brother close behind will be quite sufficient enough to convince whoever it is that's supposed to be interested."

"Anakin, I haven't seen a holodrama with a more convincing performance in years. You would make Face proud," Mara said, the esteem in her voice evidence. As a former spy and assassin herself, talent in such areas were often the only thing that ever seemed to impress her.

"Thanks, I guess," Anakin said nervously. "I hope it wasn't _too_ convincing. I want the Vong to believe it, but hopefully Jaina will catch on."

"Even if she doesn't, she'll be too relieved when she finds out we're alive to think about killing you," Cilghal laughed lightly.

"Don't count on it," Anakin said. 

"Well, there's nothing left to do but set our shaper friend on her way," Luke interrupted, all eyes turning to Nen Yim. 

"Thank you for the opportunities you have given me and my people," she said solemnly. "I will do my best to make this plan a success."

"May the Force be with you," Luke murmured softly. Even though no one their was blind to the irony of the statement, they all echoed his farewell.

"And may Yun-Yuuzhan look kindly upon us all," she replied.

"If we don't see you again," Mara said, laying a hand on the tattooed shoulder, "thank you for the antidote to my disease, and for giving my child a chance at life."

Looking uncomfortable, the Yuuzhan Vong nodded curtly, brushing off the thank-yous. "If that is all, take me to the vessel. I am eager to finish this."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Jacen shifted in his seat, feeling out of his element. Danni looked little better, her blond curls tussled in their usual manner and green eyes darting nervously. He hadn't wanted to come, and didn't think they wanted him there, either, his mother included. She kept throwing him anxious looks, and turned when he tried to meet her gaze. "I wish Jaina would have let us come. I wanted to check on Uncle Luke, too," he whispered to Danni. The brilliant young scientist had been reluctant to attend, especially with so many notable people present, but he had insisted. At least he would have one person he could feel comfortable around.

She leaned over closer to him, but kept her eyes fixed on the speaker, a Quarren senator. "I thought you said they were all alive."

Jacen licked his lips nervously. "Alive yes, but in what health I don't know. He felt okay, but from this distance I can't be sure. And then there's that message; I can't believe Anakin would do that when he didn't have to."

She opened her mouth to reply, then shut it quickly as the attention in the room switched suddenly to Jacen. "Did General Fel leave you any instructions in this matter?" Grand Admiral Pellaeon asked.

"Uh," Jacen fumbled, leafing through the sparse notes Jaina had left him, "let's see...what were we saying again?"

The Admiral sighed in agitation and the rest of the room attempted to hide their amusement. "Did she tell you anything specific about where to plan our attack?"

"The Maw?" he said, and no one managed to completely hide their chuckles except Leia.

"We all know it's in the Maw," she snapped, irritated. "We were hoping for specific positions so that our own fleet won't be sucked into a black hole."

Checking his notes again frantically, "I don't think Jaina has enough astronomic knowledge of the gravitational pull and physics that would allow us to pinpoint a particular point in space—"

"I guess that means we need to get some star charts," she mumbled. "Admiral, can you commission at team of astronomers to—"

"Danni's an astronomer," Jacen interjected proudly, and was immediately elbowed sharply in the ribs for his disclosure. "What?" he whispered.

"Isn't that wonderful," a Moff smirked. "Now, there's a very credible scientists on Yaga Minor..."

"But she's a _great_ scientist—ow! What?!"

She grabbed his shirt roughly, pulling him close, "Jacen Solo, the last thing I want is to get involved in this huge political mess."

"I'm sorry," Pellaeon said. "I'm sure Miss Quee is very studious. We were just hoping for someone a little more...practiced."

At this Jacen felt her emotions take a drastic turn, shifting to offended. He laid a cautious hand on her arm, warning her to not say something she would regret.

"We have star charts on hand," Pellaeon continued, sliding a datacard into the main projector. A map of the huge mass of black holes appeared over the individual holoprojectors, and dimensions scrolled over their screens. "Now, in the third quadrant there's a pocket of—"

"It'll never work," Danni interrupted softly.

"Why not?" Leia asked, indignant.

Danni stood slowly, all hesitation evaporated in the heat of her anger. She went to the main projector in the center of the table and jabbed a finger at the area he had spoken of. "The largest cluster is over here," moving her finger slightly to the left, "and would have a greater pull in that direction. The whole battle would seem like it was in a world's atmosphere. You need to calculate the exact size and dimensions of each void, then find every section of open space. Entry and exit vectors need to be found, the dividing line that if you cross there's no going back, and you need to mathematically map out the entire safe zone. Then if all that clears out you need to test the pocket itself and calculate the pull of each black hole on your position. There can't be more pull in one direction than another. If the area doesn't match that then you have to find another and start all over again."

There was silence. Jacen had to hide his smirk behind his hand, loving the expression on all their faces. With a smug, self-satisfied air Danni returned to her seat, throwing him a wink as she did so. She was wonderful, he thought for the thousandth time. Without ever raising her voice, without speaking a word of admonishment, she had managed to disparage some of the rudest, most self-important people in the galaxy. Some people, like Jaina, had no qualms about speaking their mind and picking apart even the most respected of beings; but it took a very different kind of person to do it with style.

"Well," Pellaeon broke the stillness at last. "Since it seems you have more than enough knowledge on the procedure for such a venture, how would you like to be made commanding officer over a team of scientists, strategists, and architects that will be sent to the Maw to prepare for our last stand?"

The shuttle's ramps hissed open in a sinister way, if landing strut compressors could be called sinister. Steam roiled up from the bottom of the ship, and Jaina thought it rather melodramatic. "Is there no way to fix that?" she asked Jag as they debarked, gesturing at the rising gases.

He shrugged. "I'd never noticed."

"It's driving me crazy," she snapped, wondering why she had just now noticed it too.

"I'll talk to the designer," Jag promised. They finally hit the deck of the _Roughshod_, Jaina's usually soft strides thundering through the hangar as she marched purposefully towards the lone figure waiting for them.

Anakin smiled sheepishly as she approached, but Jaina's expression was anything but amused. Without a word of acknowledgment she jerked quickly, her right arm swinging with the intent to wipe the smirk off his face. Anakin ducked and would have gotten out of the way, but Jag had caught her arm long before then, snatching her cocked elbow as she drew back.

Unfortunately for Jag, she was in no mood to be hindered. Her anger was immediately transferred to him, having no other outlet. She spun promptly, aiming to do to him as she had planned to do to her brother. He ducked, the blow glancing off his left shoulder instead of his chin, and before she could get another chance Anakin had recovered and trapped both arms behind her back. 

"I can beat the kriff out of you without hands, Anakin Solo, don't think I can't!" she yelled, irate.

"I believe you, trust me," he said in all seriousness. "Just here me out a minute, Jay. Don't make a scene out here in the open, you could ruin everything."

Jaina took a few deep, calming breathes and looked around. She had already drawn many stares, the looks behind them torn. They were unsure whether the tussle was in earnestness or jest, and if they should come to their general's aid. Several stormtroopers shifted their rifles to different shoulders restlessly, eyeing the threesome with an uncertain air. Slowly, very slowly, Jaina let the tenseness in her arms and shoulders loosen, relaxing in his grip.

Jag was looking at her with a mixture of cautiousness and hurt, wounded at her attempt to strike him. Jaina felt a tiny pang of remorse, but was still too angry to be very sorry. "Why would you send me such a terrible message?" she hissed as he release his grip on her.

Anakin's expression was sorrowful, regretful even. "I'm sorry, Jaina. I had to do it, it was necessary for the Yuuzhan Vong to accept Nen Yim willingly—" 

"_What?_"she yelled. "You let her go?"

"Shh," he said hurriedly, trying to calm her. "Come on, I'll take you to Uncle Luke and Aunt Mara, they can explain things better."

"Why couldn't they meet us here?" Jag asked.

"They're dead, remember?" Anakin smiled, then motioned for them to follow.

Jaina chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, trying to decide which of them to kill first. "So you're telling me that you let the most valuable piece of Intel we've gathered in this war so far go back to the Vong with all our secrets, then sent me a message saying you're all _dead_?"

"Jaina, honey, you're not listening to what we're saying," Mara explained placatingly.

"No, I think I am," she snapped. "How could you do this to me? You had no right! She was a prisoner of war, and you are in no way connected to this Empire!"

"Jaina, calm down," Jag tried soothingly.

"I will not! Why aren't you as upset about this as I am?"

"Because," he said softly, taking her by the shoulders, "I'm listening to their reasons, and they're valid ones. What they've done will help the war effort, not hurt it."

She jerked out of his grasp, tears forming in her eyes. "No one's hearing what I'm saying!"

"Jaina," he sighed attempting to reason with her.

Suddenly she burst into tears, running from the room in a flood of weeping. Confused and frustrated, Jag sat heavily into a chair, looking helplessly at his inlaws. "What's going on with her? Not ten minutes ago she could have taken the head off a Gammorrean with her bare hands, and now she's in there crying like her heart's been ripped out. I just don't know what to do any more."

Luke chuckled softly and sat down beside him. "It's a pregnancy thing, don't worry about it. Yesterday Mara was ready to shoot me because I left the hot chocolate mix out on the counter. Literally, she had her blaster drawn and everything."

They all laughed at this, even Mara, who smiled thinly but not without humor. "I hope she comes out of it soon," Jag sighed. "I think part of it is that she hasn't been sleeping well. Her hand is really giving her trouble, it's swelling something awful, every time she goes to sleep."

"I have the same problem with backaches," Mara explained, rubbing her protruding tummy. "All I can say is to be understanding. We may seem crazy, but at the time everything seems completely real. Cut her some slack. You'd be cranky if you had another person growing in your uterus, too."

Jag sat down slowly, cautiously, hoping that by now her anger had faded at least somewhat. Jaina turned to look at him and smiled, and a bit of his nervousness faded. "Are you feeling better?" he whispered, watching the stars out the viewport with her. The room had been specially made for this purpose, so that they could sit and watch the planets and suns while they worked. He had been told that it had been one of Nen Yim's favorite places while staying with them.

"Much," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "I had a little talk with Hanna."

"Did you?" he returned, his vocalization colored with amusement.

"Mmhmm," she replied. "We decided that I needed to be a little more patient with everyone." She was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry I've been on this emotional rollercoaster lately. I just can't help it. And it probably won't end today. So, I'm apologizing now for all the whining I've done, and all the hateful things I've said, and all the things I'm going to do before Hanna decides to grace us with her presence."

Jag felt the last vestiges of uneasiness roll away, but he was still confused. "And you just came to this conclusion? You're all better, so quickly?"

Jaina sighed impatiently. "I can't help what irrational/hormonal Jaina says. You'll just have to put up with her and be thankful when I come back to my senses. Only seven more months of this, anyway."

Jag groaned in self-pity, but was cut short as the hatch to their sanctuary slid open, revealing Anakin in the doorway. "Jacen's on the Holonet transceiver, he has something important to tell us all." 

"How long are you both going to be there?" Luke asked his eldest nephew.

"As long as it takes. Probably close to nine or ten months," Jacen answered, his image flickering over the transceiver.

"So they really put Danni in charge?" Jaina asked, shaking her head. "I guess sending you to that meeting was a good thing after all."

"For everyone else, maybe," Jacen answered. "I don't think Danni's too happy about it though. She would have rather stayed out of it all, but they kind of pushed her into it."

"I can understand that," Luke said. "For someone who hasn't grown up in a military family, these things can be a little overwhelming."

"If you need anything, just let us know," Jag said. "Tell Danni we can have anything she needs shipped there within a few days. Take all safety precautions, don't skimp."

Jacen smiled gratefully. "I don't think you need to worry about her doing her job right." 

"We trust you both, Jacen," Mara interjected.

"Be safe, brother," Anakin added. "You still owe me a hundred creds from that last sabaac game."

Jacen laughed lightly. "You got it. I love you all."

"We love you, too," Jaina said for them all. The connection flickered and faded, leaving them alone once again on the _Roughshod_.

"This is going to be a boring few months," Mara droned at long last.

"Why?" Jaina questioned.

"In case you haven't noticed, Cilghal, Luke and I are unofficially, officially dead. We haven't left our quarters since Nen Yim left, and we won't until the Maw project is done."

Jaina shuffled her feet on the carpet, feeling tired. The life she had led for over a year seemed like it would never end. She just wanted the war be over, for Jag to have his brother back, and for she and Mara to have their babies safely in their arms. Was that so much to ask?

"I hope Nen Yim was received well," Cilghal muttered. "Our hopes are pinned on her." 

"Whatever the Force wills," Luke whispered. "We can't expect anything other than that." 


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

**6 months later**

The heartbeat was steady, rhythmic, pulsing through the both of them, making two into one. Jaina breathed deeply, following the oxygen cells into her lungs then to her veins. It flowed through the labyrinth of passageways, into her aorta and through her heart, where it was pumped into the rest of her body. Eventually it found her reproductive organs, and streamed into her placenta and through the umbilical cord to Hanna.

Hanna was just as alive as Jaina, the umbilical nourishing her like a feeding tube through their shared blood. Jaina let the held breath out, but kept her focus on Hanna. She had grown so big and strong in the past months, now fully developed and simply waiting until the right moment to leave her protective haven and join the outside world.

At the present, Hanna was content where she was. That is, squeezed uncomfortably against Jaina's kidneys.

But she was hungry. _What are you craving today, my darling_? Jaina thought, though not in words. Jaina sifted through a list foods, some so disgusting in her current state she could have vomited, and some more tantalizing than she ever thought food could be. Finally she found one that struck her, apparently what Hanna was craving.

Then there was the point that all this led up to: she was going to have to get up. She sighed, running an affectionate hand over the soft, plushy chair holding her very pregnant form. Trying to muster up the strength of will and body, she gripped the arms tightly and strained to hoist herself up.

"What are you doing?"

Jaina fell back with a rush, breathing heavily at her struggle. "Trying to get up."

Mara looked over from her own chair, appraising Jaina's predicament. "What do you need?"

Jaina cocked her head, considering. "Besides the fact that I have to use the 'fresher every half hour? We're hungry."

Mara nodded solemnly, turning back to the Holonet report scrolling in front of them. Mara had made a spectacular recovery in the past six months, and Ben—as they had decided to name their son—had grown strong and healthy with her, as was apparent by the huge expanse of her abdomen. She had the pregnant woman glow about her, her red hair restored to its full golden sheen from the dullness it had gained during her disease. Her cheeks were full, emerald eyes had regained their sly glint, and Jaina couldn't have been happier for her. "Us too. Get us something while you're up, will you?"

Jaina scowled, fighting the snappy retort that rose instinctively to her tongue. "If I can get up," she grumbled instead.

Mara used the remote to flip to another channel, this time a holodrama. "Why don't you get Jag to get it for you?"

Jaina waved the suggestion off, dismissing it out of hand. "He's busy. He's been working so hard the past few weeks, months really. I think he's afraid of what will happen in the Maw. Danni and Jacen are almost done there, you know."

Mara nodded, switching channels once again. "I'm worried, too, so's Luke."

"Yeah, but I think there's more to it. His brother could be there with the Vong when we spring the trap, Mara. We could actually kill him inadvertently," the younger Jedi explained, troubled.

Mara winced at the implications. "Not a good thing. What's he going to do about it?"

Jaina shook her head slowly. "There's not much he can do."

"Then just ask him anyway. I do it with Luke all the time. I hardly get off the couch."

Jaina laughed at this, giving her aunt a mock-admonishing look. "And I thought you were so independent."

"I am, and will be, once Ben is born. I see it like this: I've done a lot of difficult things in my life. I've been in lightsaber fights and shootouts, faced a lot of Sith and killed a lot of people. But none of that is as hard as trying to haul _this_," she gestured to her swollen abdomen, "out of a chair."

Jaina laughed loudly then, and Mara joined in. "Besides," she added after a moment, "it's _his_ son that's hungry. If I have to carry him around in my uterus for nine months the least he can do is bring me some food every once and a while."

Jaina giggled again, but was reminded once again of the fact that she needed nourishment, preferably a heaping bowl of Corellian shrimp salad. Sighing she said, "I just don't think I have the heart to interrupt him."

Mara turned back to her Holonet program, then said with a leading air, "I guess you'll just have to get up and go _all_ the way to the kitchen and get it yourself, then."

Jaina looked doubtfully at the seven meter trek to the kitchen, one in which she would have to leave the comfort of her chair to make. For a moment she chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip, then smiled mischievously. In her sweetest voice she called out, "Jag?"

After gorging herself unashamedly on the shrimp salad her husband had so graciously prepared, Mara had informed her of an acquired and insatiable craving for Chrandrillan salt taffy. Since Jag had left to go check matters on the _Valorous_, they had been forced to call Luke from the Skywalker apartment—which adjoined Jaina and Jag's by a locking door—sending him to fetch the much-needed treat.

"We're going to need some serious training time after this," Mara said, taking the last bite of her shrimp.

Jaina nodded, resisting the urge to lick the plate. "I feel like a sail barge. I hate to think of all the exercising I'm going to have to do to get back in shape before the final push."

Mara groaned softly, holding her belly. "I don't think Ben likes shrimp as much as Hanna. My stomach's cramping. Ah!"

"What is it?" Jaina asked, concerned.

"He just kicked me."

Jaina smiled knowingly. "Hanna likes to do that about 0200 in the morning, right when I've really started to sleep good."

Mara winced, rubbing her rounded abdomen. "He just did it again." Then to her stomach itself, "Why do you want to go and hurt Mommy like that?" 

"I hope Uncle Luke gets back with that taffy soon. I think Hanna is liking the idea as much as Ben," Jaina said. "My mouth is watering just thinking about it."

"Ah!" Mara exclaimed, her back arching with the pain.

"Mara, are you okay?" Jaina asked, concerned. "He can't be kicking you that hard."

"No," she gritted through clenched teeth, "it's these kriffing muscle cramps. Its like my whole lower torso is spasming out of control. Oh, _sith spit_! Damn it..."

A light blinked on inside Jaina's head. "Aunt Mara, I think you might be going into labor."

"Nonsense," she said, the pain easing off, "my due date is almost a week away."

Jaina gritted her teeth and pushed, forcing her lumbering form out of the chair. "Come on, we have to get you to the MedCenter."

"But I'm supposed to be dead, remember?" Mara said.

"I don't think Ben cares about the charade. Don't worry, it's mostly droids, and Cilghal will be your healer. And my staff wouldn't rat you out anyway."

Staunchly Mara shook her head. "No, I'm fine, really; the pain is all go—oh..._blast!_" She bit down on her lower lip hard, hands gripping the arms of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. When the contraction ended she said, "Okay, you better get me to Cilghal quick. I have a feeling my son is in a hurry."

Jaina nodded, doing her best to waddle quickly to the door connecting her and Jag's suite to the one the Skywalkers and Anakin stayed in. "Anakin!" she called.

"What?" he yelled back distractedly.

"Mara's going into labor." 

"What?!" this time considerably more interested.

"Comm Uncle Luke and Cilghal, then the bridge. Tell them to comm the _Valorous_ and tell Jag what's going on. I'm taking Mara to the MedCenter."

Anakin appeared in the doorway as she was speaking, eyes wide and panicky. "Okay, whatever you say. I'll be right behind you."

Jaina nodded her thanks and went back to Mara, who had managed to pull herself out of her own seat. "Let's go, Aunt Mara. Or should I call you Mama?"

A wail echoed through the chambers, followed by a painful rush through the Force. Jaina grimaced, not looking forward to the day she would endure the same thing. Anakin sat across from her, his elbows resting on his knees, leaning over anxiously. Luke had arrived shortly after Jaina and Mara, and he was currently in the delivery room with her and Cilghal.

"Did you tell the bridge officers to call Jag?" she asked Anakin again.

"Yes," he responded. "Do you think she'll be okay? I'm sensing an awful lot of pain." 

"She'll be fine, Anakin," Jaina said softly. "Millions of females go through this every day."

"If you say so," he said dubiously.

Jag rounded the corner suddenly, breathing hard as if he had been running. "Is everyone okay?" he panted. 

"Yes," Jaina answered, "Mara's just gone into labor." 

Jag let out a huge sigh of relief, leaning heavily against the door jam. "Thank the Force. All they told me is that you had to run to the MedCenter, and that I should come back as soon as possible."

Jaina smiled fondly, holding out her hand to him. He came and sat beside her, squeezing her hand tightly. "Hanna?" he asked simply, the fear evident in his voice and eyes.

She took his hand and placed it over her stomach. After a few seconds their daughter kicked, and Jag smiled gratefully. He leaned over and kissed her tightly, holding her head gently with one hand.

The moment was rudely interrupted as Mara wailed again, her cries half-scream half-moan. Jaina winced, unable to shut out the suffering through the Force. "You know," she said as it subsided, "I'm starting to think we're not ready for this baby thing. Yeah, I'm just not having one, okay?"

Both Jag and Anakin smirked at this, but their smiles fell as another pitiful cry from Mara sounded. "Maybe I should go let Uncle Luke have a break for a while," Jaina mused while trying with marginal success to pull herself out of the chair. Jag stood and helped her to her feet, and she tottered into the delivery room. Mara lay on the hospital bed, hair plastered to her head with sweat. She held the rails on either side in a death grip, and her breathing came out in ragged gasps. Luke, who sat beside her, poured concern and distress through the Force, and from the looks she kept shooting him Jaina could understand why.

"I was wondering if maybe I could keep you company while Uncle Luke rested," she said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Yes, get him out of here, he's driving me crazy," Mara snarled.

Luke looked injured, but he gained no sympathy from his wife. Jaina smiled comfortingly as he rose and went outside into the waiting room. "How are you doing?" she asked as she sat in the chair he had recently vacated.

"How the hell does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped.

Jaina decided to ignore the jibe. "How far are you dilated?"

Mara gestured to Cilghal, who was bustling around the foot of the bed with a troupe of Emdee droids. Jaina repeated the question to the healer.

"About ten centimeters. It shouldn't be long now," the Mon Cal Jedi answered.

"Here comes another contraction," Mara whispered. Her voiced trailed into a strained gurgle, and she groaned in anguish as the baby moved itself a little bit further down the birth canal. Jaina didn't think Mara could have been any more tense, but she was wrong. The muscles in her neck and arms bulged, and by the way she gripped the metal rail Jaina could have sworn she could have lifted a speeder bike straight over her head. "Oh," she gasped when it was over, and it was the weakest sound Jaina had ever heard her utter. "Where's Luke?" she whimpered, tears squeezing in between her closed eyes. "Where is he?" she sobbed again.

Jaina took that as her cue to leave. "I'll go get him." She hadn't even stood yet when he burst into the room, sensing Mara's need for him. She patted his shoulder sympathetically before shuffling quickly back into the waiting room.

Jag took her arm in an attempt to help her sit, and Jaina resisted the urge to tell him to go bugger himself. Sometimes she was extremely thankful he wasn't Force-sensitive, otherwise he would be subject to all her numerous and occasionally lurid mood swings.

"Push, Mara, just a little bit more!" Cilghal's voice echoed from the delivery room. Jaina could feel the pain of her parturition, and she sent her as much soothing feelings as she could. Outwardly she cringed, and Anakin buried his face in his hands. Mara was strong in the Force, and such intense emotions were like tidal waves of suffering washing over them.

Another anguished scream from Mara, then another, smaller cry. Jaina closed her eyes and smiled, reaching out to her newly born cousin. He was so small but so _alive_, afraid and excited and tired all at the same time. She caressed him gently, her silent hello, a welcome into a new world. She touched Luke and Mara, full of love and pride for each other and their son. Soon though she retreated, granting the new family their privacy. She and Jag would have their own soon enough. 

The anonymous lower-caste worker slipped back into the darkness, careful to be utterly silent. Avoidance of detection was essential, and all those Nen Yim had spoken to so far had been instructed thoroughly in the procedure. It was follow her rules or die, there were no other options.

Nen Yim turned her back on her newest convert, watching the stars spin above her. Things had gone well in the months since she had returned to her people. They had been reluctant to believe her at first, Nom Anor not the least among them. It had been the message Anakin had sent Jaina that had been her saving grace, the proof she needed to gain their trust. 

After that it had been a process, a slow and agonizing trek to wheedle out possibilities, people she could trust enough to unveil her plan to. First she had spoken to one, a Shamed One who had been thrilled with her idea, the future she revealed. He had promised to tell others, and slowly, by word of mouth, practically the entirety of the lower castes knew their purpose.

Revolt.

It was a simple word, but a loaded one. The implications were evident to anyone. She was asking those who had known nothing but degradation and shame to rebel, to tear down the power structure and destroy the Yuuzhan Vong from the inside out.

Destroy it so that it could be saved.

Nen Yim sighed heavily, the sigh of a being tired of soul. She hated herself as much as she took pride in her accomplishments. It wasn't easy, bearing the burden of her deceit. She was doing the best thing for them all, of that she was sure, but all doubts could not be kept at bay. What if, just what if, the Yuuzhan Vong could have won this war?"

Ah, but it was too late now. She had sown the seeds of resistance, watered them until they had taken root, and soon she would reap the fruits of her labor. 

Carefully she slunk through the darkness back to her grashal where she would return to her role of loyal shaper, hiding her betrayal behind a mask of civic pride. The gravel road she traversed was empty, much to her relief and chagrin. Being unseen was much desired, but seeing no one was cause for concern. Deciding it would be best to slow her pace and take her time to be careful, Nen Yim dropped off the edge of the road into the underbrush.

The briars scraped at her face, letting tiny rivulets of blood trickle down through her hair and under the collar of her cloak. She ignored him, having long ago thrown off the chains that pain held most people in. She crept as quietly as she could, hoping against hope that she wasn't walking into a trap.

A branch appeared out of nowhere, jutting into the path of her stride, catching her leg at the ankle. Unbalanced, she toppled heavily onto the ground, sticking her arms out to break her fall. She hit hard, a bone in her right wrist shattering. That arm gave way and she rolled to her right, finally coming to rest on her back. Cursing the luck and whatever gods existed, Nen Yim clambered unsteadily to her feet, wishing with all her heart that there had been no one around to hear her blundering around.

She had barely made it to her feet when she was struck, the blow coming from behind her. It caught her in the left side of her back, a coufee sliding easily in between her true ribs and puncturing her lung. Nen Yim gasped against the exquisite pain, jerking away from her attacker with all her strength. The coufee twisted from their grasp but scraped tortuously against her ribs in the process, eventually being slung from her flesh and into the brush it a spurt of black blood.

Such grievous wounds would have crippled a human, but to Yuuzhan Vong it was little more than a nuisance. Nen Yim scanned the darkness for her assailant, readying her shaper's hand for attack. It didn't come.

Her breathing ragged and pained, Nen Yim turned, hoping whoever it was had been scared off, or expected she had been killed by the blow. Finding no reason to wait, she continued on her way back to the grashal.

No sooner had she turned than a hand shot from the air, wrapping around her torso and pinning her arms to her sides. The coufee that had been plunged into her back was then placed at her throat, but made no move once in place. "Out for a stroll, Master Shaper?" a voiced chuckled at her left ear.

Nen Yim swallowed hard, but fear wasn't what she was feeling. It was a seething anger, a desire for revenge. She would not die here, tonight, and she would not die at Nom Anor's hand. "Am I not allowed to want for the night air?" 

"Not when your want leads to plotting against the Supreme Overlord," Nom Anor rasped. "I knew, I knew you would have never survived an escape from the _Jeedai_. Your return could only be explained by them releasing you. How grievously have you betrayed us, Nen Yim?"

"I have saved us all," she whispered. "If it is a crime to love your people enough to give everything for them, then it is a crime I commit with pride."

"There will be no repentance, then?" he asked.

"For rescuing us from our doom? Never."

The blade cut sweetly through her flesh and arteries, her life's blood pouring onto his hands as he released her, pushing her to the ground where she lay, twitching in her death throws. "Pity."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

Mara crooned over the tiny child, her face unusually soft and kind. Her nose a whisper away from the tiny face, she smiled and murmured delicate, meaningless words of comfort. The baby waved a small fist in the air, clutching at her nose and lower lip. Mara smiled and kissed the small hand, then pulled back to look at Jaina. "He's so _small_."

Jaina smiled at her aunt, but inwardly aching to hold her own child. _Soon_, a small voice seemed to promise. _Soon_. "I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

Mara only grinned at her assessment. "Maybe that's because I've never been this happy."

Jaina eased herself carefully into the chair beside her bed, watching the new mother and her baby. "You wouldn't have thought it a few hours ago. Gods, Mara, if I have to go through that I'm not sure I'm ready to have a baby."

"Jaina, you won't understand until Hanna actually comes. It's worth it; Force, it's so worth it."

Jaina sighed, looking down into the tiny red face, wrapped securely in a thermoblanket. "Truthfully? It already is. I love her so much already. There's no limit I wouldn't go to for her, Mara, nothing. It's like..." Jaina trailed off, trying to find the words that could express the emotion she was feeling.

"Like every breath you've ever taken had been only so you could take care of this baby?" Mara offered softly.

Jaina nodded solemnly, accepting her assessment. But it also made her think, made her wonder. Had her own mother ever felt this? Had Leia ever cared for her, even after birth, as Jaina cared for her unborn daughter? Jaina swore inwardly that her baby would never be second best. Jaina's family would come first, Jag and Hanna above everything. Without them, was anything else even worth having?

"So where'd Uncle Luke go?" she asked after a moment.

"Went to take a shower and change his clothes," Mara answered, her attention already refocused on the precious bundle in her arms. "I had to practically pull my lightsaber on him to get him to do that." 

Jaina snorted derisively, imagining the Jedi Master being threatened by a woman who had went through labor less than a day ago. "You're lucky he wants to stay at all, you were so cross with him yesterday."

Mara scowled, raising her head to look up at Jaina temporarily. "He deserved it."

"Sure he did," Jaina smirked.

"Yeah, well," Mara continued in a sardonic tone, "we'll see how well _you_ act when the man who caused you all that pain is hovering over you like a nervous mynock." 

Jaina laughed at her estimation and silently agreed Mara was probably right. She doubted Jag would get treated much better when Hanna decided to make her appearance. "I felt us jump to hyperspace a few minutes ago," Mara observed suddenly. "Where are we going?" 

Jaina sighed, running a weary hand over her forehead. "Jacen commed about and hour ago. Everything's set, now we just bait the trap and wait for our prey."

"No, not yet!" Mara exclaimed. "I can't be stuck here with Luke and everyone else fighting! Come on, can't we wait till I get back in shape?"

Jaina nodded eagerly. "I don't think there's any cause to worry. It will take weeks to pull out from all our systems, and a few more for the Vong to organize their own attack. We'll be there a good month and a half at least before anything major happens."

Mara sighed gratefully, turning back to baby Ben. "I'll have to start training right away. No more than a week from now if I want to lose all this extra baby weight and tone back up."

Jaina looked unhappily down at her own protruding belly, so swollen with child she could rest her plate on it when she ate. "I'll have less than that. I hope I have this baby soon, if the battle starts before I do...I don't think I could take it."

"I don't think Jag would let you," Mara mused.

"What?"

"He wouldn't let you be in the Maw during the big offensive when you were still pregnant. You didn't actually expect he would, did you?" Mara asked.

"I had never thought about it," Jaina said darkly. "Now I _really_ hope I have this baby soon."

Mara patted her knee comfortingly with a smug smile plastered across her face. "Let's see if you're still saying that at ten centimeters." 

"Is she still alive?"

Nom Anor shook his head vigorously. "No, Supreme Overlord. She met her end last night on the road back to her grashal, just as you wished." 

The huge beast of a Yuuzhan Vong rumbled deep in his throat in satisfaction, implanted eyes roving over Nom Anor's kneeling form. "Excellent. And was our information correct?"

"I believe so, Great One," Nom Anor intoned. "The Jedi allowed her to leave, which meant Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker are still alive. It was a well-planned scheme."

"What are their plans?" he demanded.

Nom Anor swallowed hard, reluctant to divulge an idea. If he was wrong, the consequences were fatal, most likely worse. But the Overlord had asked, and the Executor must answer. "I believe they are setting a trap."

"What kind of trap?" he snapped, his voice commanding a plausible explanation.

"That will be seen in time. But since we know it's coming, we will be able to see it and make contingency plans in advance, Supreme One." 

Shimrra considered, his huge hand fingering the mutilate scraps of a jaw bone. "We need a bargaining chip," he said finally.

Nom Anor's eyes widened in surprise. Was he actually considering _negotiating_ with the infidels? "Bargaining, Great One?" he swallowed.

"No, of course not!" he bellowed in offense. "Something to throw them off. Something to distract them while we cut their throats from behind. What do we have that meets that criteria?"

The executor wracked his brain, thinking frantically over all he had learned while posing as a Chiss General. There had to be some obscure fact, some scrap of knowledge that could help him in this. Something to distract the Republic and Imperial leaders...

"The Fel child," he said suddenly, an idea forming in his head.

"Who?" Shimrra inquired insistently.

Nom Anor's head snapped up, excitement building inside him. "Three years ago a member of the Fel clan disappeared, vanished. I remember because the reports said it was in a system the Praetorite Vong were scouting. No body was ever found. It is likely that we took him as a slave."

Shrimrra laughed at the suggestion. "You think that after all this time he would still be alive?"

Nom Anor shrugged helplessly. "Those of this clan are particularly resilient. I would not say it was impossible. If we do still have him alive and in custody, he would be a perfect distraction for the infidel leadership."

The great master of war thought for a long moment, then with a flick of his hand dismissed Nom Anor, saying, "Conduct the search."

Jacen Solo examined with a critical eye the handiwork of the New Republic engineers, estimating the remaining time it would take to make sure everything was secure. Not long. "Aunt Mara had her baby," he said to his companion.

Danni looped her arm through his, smiling up at him. "Will we get to see it when they come?"

"I'm sure," Jacen said. "And Jaina will be having hers soon, too."

"She's so lucky," Danni sighed. 

Jacen felt his throat constrict, a sudden panic descending on him. He liked Danni a lot, loved being around her, might even love her, but the thought of her wanting children...it was terrifying. "Uh, you like kids, huh?"

She laughed loudly, slapping his arm playfully. "No, silly, not lucky like that. Lucky that she is able to get along with her husband. What are the chances, after being forced together like that?"

Jacen nodded, relieved. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I think they love each other, anyway." 

"Even better," Danni smiled.

The small cruiser that had been sent as a flagship for the surveying team of scientists now floated in a the chosen pocket of space between the voids that would serve their purposes. It was were the Vong would meet their end, and more than likely hosts of New Republic and Imperial citizens. "Was your mother excited that they could finally start withdrawing their forces to the Maw?" Danni continued.

Jacen had opened his mouth to answer when proximity alarms started to blare and the bridge became a flurry of motion. "What?" Jacen asked. "What's happening?" Thus far they had remained undisturbed in the Maw; visitors were not at all in the ordinary.

"Two ships just appeared on our scopes," an officer said. "Two _Victory_-class Star Destroyers. They're hailing us."

Jacen had not been put in charge of this mission, but Danni was not the leadership-type and soon after arriving in the Maw it became apparent that if any progress was to be made Jacen would have to be the one to do it. Stepping forward he said, "Patch them through."

After a few seconds a hazy image of his sister appeared before him. "Hello, Jacen."

Jacen sighed in relief. If it had been someone wanting a fight, they stood no chance. The small cruiser was not at all equipped for combat. "Jaina. Wow it's good to see you. You look beautiful. How's the baby?"

"Mine or Mara's?" she smiled.

He returned her grin. "I meant yours, but I want to know about both."

"Baby Ben and Mara are doing fine, and you can be the judge about Hanna when you come over. You can dock with us at..." she rang off a string of coordinates that were absorbed the by the navigators to Jacen's right.

"Okay. We'll see you then."

For a second Jacen couldn't believe his eyes. His sister, always so petite and thin, now looked as if she was smuggling the Death Star under her tunic. Nevertheless, she was so beautiful he could hardly stand to look at her. She fairly glowed, her smile bright and happy, lighting up the entire hangar as he descended the landing ramp, Danni on one arm. Jacen broke away from his companion at the sight of her, racing down the hangar to gather her in his arms.

Jaina laughed gleefully, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. The unbreakable bond between them that had been forged before birth flared, love and understanding flowing between them like a fountain. _I missed you, Jacen_, she seemed to say.

_I missed you, Jaina_. 

But new to their connection was someone else, another life inseparable from his twin's. Hanna was easily sensed through Jaina, her primitive mind somehow alert and restless. Jacen pulled away, staring in awe at the protrusion where his niece lay nestled. "I can feel her," he whispered.

Jaina smiled, taking his hand in her own. "I know. Isn't it fabulous?"

"Yeah," he said. Only then did he notice the others gathered around. Luke, Mara and Anakin stood off to one side, while Cilghal spoke softly to Jag a few feet away. In Mara's arms was a tiny bundle of limbs and blankets, squirming gently in her embrace. Jacen moved away from Jaina and towards his other family. He hugged Anakin and Luke briefly, then looked silently down at his newborn cousin.

Ben Skywalker glowed with the Force, as if he was a conduit to it's power. How could so small a person possess such a deep connection to the Force? "He's beautiful Uncle Luke, Aunt Mara," he said. 

"Thank you," Luke beamed, wrapping an arm around Mara's shoulders. "We think so."

It was then that Jacen remembered Danni, whom he had abandoned back at the shuttle. He turned and smiled, motioning for her to some forward. She did so shyly, smiling unsurely at everyone. "This is Danni Quee," he said. "Danni, this is my sister, Jaina, my brother Anakin, Jedi Masters Luke and Mara Skywalker and Cilghal, and you met my brother-in-law, Jag."

"Hello," she said softly. 

Everyone intoned their greetings, welcoming her eagerly into their group. "It's wonderful to meet you at last," Luke said. 

"Thank you," Danni replied. "I grew up hearing stories about you, and how you defeated the Empire."

"I'm afraid those have become more diluted with fiction than fact," Luke said softly. "But thank you anyway."

"And the Empire is anything but dead," Jag smiled.

"Do you all want to see what all we've done?" Jacen asked eagerly, changing the subject. 

"Sure," Jaina said, starting for the shuttle.

"Jaina," Mara said, "I need to stay here with Ben. Why don't you and Danni stay with me? We can show her around."

Jaina looked hesitant, then nodded curtly. "Okay. Would you like to stay with us, Danni?"

Danni looked doubtful, and threw Jacen a questioning glance. He smiled reassuringly and said, "Go ahead, they don't bite; not much, anyways."

"You're baby's beautiful," Danni said, smiling down at the child as Mara laid him in his crib.

"Thank you," Mara said.

"How old is he, exactly?"

"Two weeks and a day," Mara answered.

Danni looked shocked. "I thought you had just had him."

"I did," she said, "but we've spent most of the time since then in transition from Bastion to here."

"Oh," Danni said. Then to Jaina, "And when is your baby due?"

Jaina rubbed her stomach and smiled. "Soon. Two weeks at the most." It looked as if Danni was about to say something else, but Jaina beat her to it. "So exactly what is the relationship between you and my brother?"

"Jaina!" Mara scolded, but Jaina ignored her. 

Danni flushed slightly and smiled. "We're, ah, more than friends, if that's what you mean."

"I see," Jaina said stiffly. "Are you getting married?"

"Jaina!" Mara said reproachfully. "He's seventeen, for goodness sake! Not everyone settles down before they're twenty like you did."

Jaina snorted derisively, and rolled her eyes. "And not everyone waits until they're forty, either."

"I'm twenty-two," Danni interjected.

"Oh," Mara said.

"See?" Jaina said to her aunt, pointing at the young scientist. "She's old enough to want to get married."

"But I don't think I'm going to be settling down anytime soon," Danni continued.

Jaina went on to Mara, "Now was that so hard? All I wanted to know was what their plans were."

"But you should have asked Jacen. Look at her, you're scaring her to death!"

"I am sitting right here, you know," Danni said helplessly. For a second she seemed to squint at Jaina, then said, "Um, are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you're kind of...leaking." 

Jaina looked down at herself, and sure enough, her trousers were strangely wet. "What's that?"

"Jaina!" Mara said excitedly, "You're water's broke!"

Jaina's eyes grew wide and panicky. "What? Now?"

"Yes! We have to get you to the medics!"

"I'll comm Jacen and everyone else," Danni said, running to the comm unit.

Jaina took a few deep, calming breaths. Her baby was coming, her baby was _finally_ coming. She smiled and closed her eyes, reaching out to Hanna. She was stressed, no doubt about that, and anxious. She wanted out, and Jaina could sympathize. _Soon I'll be able to hold you in my arms, Little One,_ she thought. _We all are so eager to meet you_. And then as an afterthought, _Please don't hurt me..._


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

The pain wasn't as bad as she had assumed. Furrowing her brow in concentration, Jaina clenched her jaw and held her breath as the contraction followed its course, then eased away. She sighed, laying back against the bed, watching the Emdee droids flitting around her. Cilghal, Jag and the others had not returned yet, which aggravated her worse than anything, but the minor pains didn't help. "You know," she breathed, on the verge of breaking into a sweat, "it's not pleasant, but not as bad as I thought."

Mara just raised an eyebrow, swaying back and forth with Ben in her arms. "I hope Jag gets here soon. I don't want to be here when you realize its worse. And I really shouldn't have Ben here."

Jaina winced as she felt another contraction coming on. The muscles in her lower abdomen tightened and pulled, cramping tightly into a knot that shot pain from her knees to her lower back. She breathed in short gasps, trying to remember what they had said in those stupid classes. All memory alluded her, and so she reached deep into the Force for comfort. It eased her suffering a bit, but by the time she pushed past the pain to concentrate on the Force the contraction had ended. Not much of a help.

Ben started to cry, his wailing sharp and piercing through the bustle of the delivery room. Mara tried vainly to comfort him, then gave Jaina an apologetic look, saying, "I'm sorry to abandon you, honey, but I need to get Ben out of here. Jag will be here soon."

Jaina nodded, just relieved to have the contraction over with. Mara sashayed out of the room still trying to comfort the crying Ben. Jaina closed her eyes and tried to touch her own child, who was suffering a different sort of distress. She was panicky, claustrophobic almost, in a strange way. She wanted out, but the birthing process was scaring her. Jaina sent her a wave of calm, of love. _It's okay. I'm here. I'll take care of you._

Hanna settled slightly, but was still full of anxiety. Jaina breathed heavily, sensing another contraction. She closed her eyes and grimaced. This time it was longer, and she could feel the increase of intensity. "Damn it, Jag, where are you?" she muttered as it ended. A bead of sweat ran out of her hair and into her eyes. She blew her bangs out of her face in irritation and waited for the next contraction.

And then something completely unexpected happened. The lights dimmed then came on again, this time in a reddish hue as sirens blared through the alarm system. Jaina almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing as realization hit her. That was the signal for all soldiers to report to their stations, battle-ready. The only time it was to be sounded was when the _Roughshod_ had come under attack.

Jag stared blankly at the comm station, not fully comprehending what was coming from the other end. "What?" he blinked. "I...I don't think I understand."

Danni Quee's shrill voice came agitatedly back across to him. "Her water broke. Mara just took her to the medics. You need to get back with Cilghal as soon as you can." 

Jag double-clicked in acknowledgment, unable to form an oral reply. "Okay, we've got to get out of here. Jaina's gone into labor."

The others immediately began to scramble for the controls of the small shuttle, turning them back towards the _Roughshod_. They had gone perhaps ten kilometers when the alarms began to go off like crazy, lights flashing and blinking with an intensity that blinded them.

"What's going on?" Anakin yelled.

Jacen, who was at the controls, cursed and pulled up hard. "We've just had a huge number of ships jump into the Maw." 

"Friendly?" Jag asked hopefully.

Jacen scowled at the readouts. "Some of them. Less than half."

Jag's heart rate quickened, the implications settling disagreeably into his gut. This battle wasn't supposed to take place for weeks, and especially when his wife was giving birth. "Hail our allies, see what's going on."

He did so. "This is Jacen Solo of the New Republic, head of the Expansionary Study in the Maw Cluster, hailing all New Republic citizens and allies."

There a was a tiny pause, then, "Jacen?"

"Mom!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"They've taken Coruscant, Jacen! I know we were going to pull out, but they came before we were evacuated. I think they know. Jacen, we didn't have anywhere to go, all we knew to do was come here."

Luke stepped forward, hitting the switch that would let him speak. "Leia, has the whole fleet pulled out? Are they following you here? We need reinforcements!"

"Luke?" 

"Leia! Now!"

"I don't know! I don't know." 

The shuttle shook with the first shot fired, the plasma glancing off the flimsy shields. "Give me those," Jag snapped, shoving Jacen out of the pilot's chair and flying full throttle towards the _Roughshod_.

"Find out!" Luke yelled, unusually lacking in his vaulted Jedi calm.

Leia cut the connection from the other end as the New Republic ships received the first wave of enemy fire. The small troupe in the shuttle watched in horror as the _Roughshod_ made a slow turn to go join them. Jag gave the engines all they had until everyone thought they would blow, but they gained no ground on the monstrous Star Destroyer. With each breath Jag felt Jaina and Hanna were slipping further and further away from him and into the raining enemy fire of death.

And there was nothing he could do.

Mara stumbled uncharacteristically as the _Roughshod_ rumbled under the firing of laser turrets and peppering of unfriendly fire. Ben clutched close to her chest, she bounced harmlessly off the wall and back into the heavy flow of foot traffic. The Imperial ship was moving, turning from its protective bubble of secure space and into the unidentified danger.

Wiping a piece of red hair from her eyes she pushed faster, shouldering her way forcefully to the only person who could be responsible for this. Anger churned in her, but she quenched it, concentrating it into a supersaturated knot of frustration to be released at a more opportune time, preferably when Ben was nowhere around.

The ship rocked again, this time more heavily. She was tossed against a tall, thin lieutenant who look down his corpulent nose at her distastefully as he brushed past. Mara scowled angrily at his retreating back and picked up her pace once again. Shifting her hold on Ben to rest him on her shoulder she slid through the last vanishing gap and through the doorway into the medical ward. 

The sight was at once shocking, distasteful, and comical. Jaina lay sprawled in an undignified manner on the delivery bed, gripping the railing to her right with one hand and the collar of a smallish young Captain who Mara _thought_ was the second in command. A Captain Onan, she thought. "What do you mean, _minority_?" 

The Captain gulped heavily, throwing Mara a passing glance. "Less than half are friendly, General. I told you it was not wise to join in—"

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Jaina yelled as she gave him a violent backward shove away from her. "Bring all weapon stations on line and open fire on the largest target. I don't want us to let up until it's dust in our ion trails, do you understand me Captain?" Nothing further escaped her as a wracking wave of pain assailed her. She closed her eyes and arched her back, moaning loudly between her clenched teeth. Onan stared at his superior with wide eyes, looking lost in the awkward situation. Eventaully the pain subsided and Jaina collapsed against the bed, spent.

"Why won't it just come _out_?" she yelled to no one in particular. Mara moved to her side, laying a hand on her arm. She had come with the intention of reprimanding her for throwing them all into a battle where the odds were clearly not in their favor. Instead, she felt the unresistable urge to comfort the poor child.

Mara nodded to Onan, dismissing him with his orders. He saluted both Jaina and herself, then turned hastily and left. "Jaina, do you know what you're doing?" she asked softly. "You're going to get yourself and Hanna and everyone else killed."

Jaina turned a heated look in her direction, lasers shooting from her eyes. "Those are our people, Mara, we can't abandon them."

"I know that," she said soothingly. "But you can't strategize while you're in labor! Let someone else take over."

"It's my ship," the seventeen-year-old growled.

"And it should be taken care of in your absence."

Jaina started to reply, but stopped as another painful spasm assailed her. She whimpered pathetically, and it was all Mara could to watch her. "Jaina," she said softly, "you should be concentrating on Hanna and taking care of her. I don't know how she's doing, but Ben was terrified. She needs you."

Jaina sighed and closed her eyes tightly. "Why isn't Jag back yet? Does he know?"

Mara centered herself in the Force and stretched out to Luke through their bond. Silent she inquired about where they were. She received images of a battle, and a picture of herself only very, very small. They were far away, then, but coming. She started to pull away but he latched on. An image of Ben rose in her mind. She smiled and sent his positive thoughts then came back to reality. "They're coming," she said to Jaina. 

Jaina, eyes still closed, said, "I can't wait forever. She's coming, quickly."

Mara just nodded and squeezed her hand, then went back to the waiting room.

Shimrra wrinkled his shredded nose at the figure before him in distaste. "This is what you plan to bargain with?"

Nom Anor gave the emaciated human a swift kick, knocking him to his knees, eliciting a small cry of pain. "It is, Overlord. Chak Fel was his name."

"Was?" he inquired.

"The coral implants have long ago erased any memory of freedom or individuality, Great One. He is but a shell of his former self, little more than a functioning body," Nom Anor explained.

The Supreme Overlord grunted, watching the human carefully. "And you really believe they will want him, especially if he is as useless as you say?"

Nom Anor nodded confidently. "Their clans our very close, Great One. They will want their kin back, no matter what condition. Actually, I would say that his poor state will increase their desire for his release."

Slowly the huge Yuuzhan Vong nodded. "Fine. Bring me the villip."

Jag weaved the ship expertly in and out of the ranks of coralskippers, his mind bent on one purpose and one alone. The huge underbelly of the _Roughshod_ loomed close, peaking his excitement. He could only hope that he wasn't too late.

The shuttle had no longer settled onto the deck than he was bounding down the ramp, Cilghal close behind, running as fast as he could for the turbolifts. They wouldn't move fast enough, seeming to take an eternity to reach the medical facility. The doors had barely opened when he was squeezing through the gap, running for a delivery room he had no idea where to find. After a few panicked seconds of turning in circles Cilghal yelled to him from down the hall, "She's in here!"

He had no memory of traversing the space, but only arriving at Jaina's side. He had pictured the moment the whole way, of seeing her face as he entered the room, of sharing the momentous occasion with her. Instead, he was meant with a gaze that could have cut him off at the knees. "Where the hell have you been?" she asked, hunched over and sweating heavily. "I've been in here like, six hours, and you show up _now_? Why don't you just get out? Get out!"

He was too stunned to speak. So he just stood and gaped. He thought for a minute she would say more, but suddenly a look of excruciation passed over her face and she made a sound that ripped his heart into pieces. He started to go to her, but stopped short as he remembered her angry words only a few moments before. "Push, Jaina," Cilghal instructed, having taken quick control of the situation. "You're so close, only a few more minutes."

Silent tears fell down her face as the anguish refused to let up. She looked back up at him, and her expression was the exact opposite as the one a few minutes before. It was longing, as if she couldn't understand why he wasn't holding her. He went to her immediately, holding her in his arms and burying his face in her sweat-soaked hair. "You're okay, Jaina. You're okay. I'm never leaving you."

She cried against his shoulder as another contraction overtook her. "This is it, Jaina!" Cilghal said. "I can see the head, come on, one more push!"

Biting her lower lip she pushed, squeezing his bicep until he thought her fingernails would draw blood.

Then the most wonderful, miraculous sound rang through the room. Hanna cried. For a full two seconds, he was sure his heart had stopped. He hadn't even seen her, but somehow he loved this baby more than he had ever thought someone was able to love their child. In an instant he had a whole new world, and it revolved around this baby.

Jaina collapsed back against the bed and into the crook of his arm, but seemed more alert than she had been. Her eyes followed Cilghal as she inspected their baby, checking for any illness or abnormality. Hanna continued to cry. The sound broke his heart. He never wanted her to cry again. 

And then she was there, wrapped in a blanket and nestled into Cighal's huge flippered hands, screaming like there was no tomorrow. Immediately Jaina extended her arms, fresh tears running down her face. Cilghal handed their daughter to her, and quickly the cries stopped until they were just sniffles. In awe, Jaina ran a finger over the curve of her face, neither of them speaking the inexpressible words. Jag touched a small hand, so very, very small. If he had loved her ten seconds before, he loved her ten times more now.

Suddenly Jaina laughed, a huge, ecstatic laugh as she threw back her head against the bed. "What?" Jag smirked, wondering why her joy was being expressed in such and odd way.

She sighed contentedly and continued to caress the small face. "Nine months of pregnancy, seven hours of labor... and she looks like you." 

Jag only smiled and kissed her head in silent agreement. The small red face was framed by tufts of coal-black hair, and sparkling green looked out at them from tired eyes. "She would be beautiful if she looked like a monkey-lizard."

Jaina looked up at him and smile, a smile more full of joy than he could remember seeing on her face in a long time. She was irresistible, and he kissed her fully, pressing his mouth to hers, hard. For a moment in time, even though a struggle for their very lives swirled just outside the durasteel bulkhead, there was perfect peace.

"What are you doing out of bed? Jaina, you should be asleep!"

Jaina looked at her aunt in irritation and continued to pull on her trousers. "I have to go check the bridge."

Mara scowled angrily, steering her back to the bed. "You had a baby less than three hours ago! Would Jag want you to be traipsing around where you don't need to be?"

Jaina halted slighlty at the mention of Jag. He had been forced to leave soon after Hanna's birth, the need for a commanding hand in the front lines too great. He had taken a squadron of TIEs into battle, and she had never been more scared for his life or anyone else's. She couldn't lose him now, not ever.

So many things were going on outside. Anakin had been sent on a lone mission back into the Republic and Empire to bring reinforcements, Jag, Luke, and Leia were in the thick of things, and Jacen, Danni, and Cilghal were busy strategizing, whatever good that would do. And there Jaina was, stuck. She wouldn't stand for it. "I just want to be presentable when Onan gets down here."

"Why is he coming?"

Jaina pulled her trousers the rest of the way on and walked to the bed, still sore and weak from the delivery. She found herself drawing on the Force to help her erase the aches and fatigue. "Because I asked him for a report. He said the Yuuzhan Vong had been hailing us, but he didn't know how to answer. I said I would take the call."

Mara placed her hands firmly on her hips, a determined look in her eyes. "You do not need that kind of stress. I'm going to make him leave."

"This is my ship and my crew, and they take orders from me," Jaina said haughtily. 

"And this," Mara patted the cylinder on her belt, "is my lightsaber. He'll understand that too."

About the then Captain entered the room, carrying a small metal box. Mara started to tell him to leave but was cut off. "Bring it here, Captain, and pay her no mind."

He dutifully handed her the portable comm unit and took a seat beside her. A red light blinked on the surface, indicating the signal hail. Jaina hit the button and said, "This is General Jaina Solo-Fel of the Imperial Remnant, contacting the Yuuzhan Vong insurgency." The screen fizzled, unable to understand the villip's feed, until finally a strained, contorted image of a Yuuzhan Vong face appeared in front of her.

"I am the Supreme Overlord of the Yuuzhan Vong, interpreter of the will of the gods, blessed by define connection. And I, infidel, have something that you want."

Jaina's thoughts immediately turned to Jag, hoping beyond hope he hadn't been captured. "Unlikely," she replied cooly.

"Let us wait and see," he smirked, if his terrible face was capable. A few seconds later a second face appeared, this time human. It was sunken with malnourishment, unseeing almost, as if the world didn't exist. But it was unmistakably the face of someone related to Jag.

"Chak," she muttered.

The Overlord reappeared, smiling in his smugness. "I see you do know him."

"Give him back," she snarled.

"How about we trade?"

Jaina furrowed her brow. "Trade?"

"You come to our flagship, and we will discuss negotiations here."

It was too obviously a trap. He would kill her when she arrived, demoralizing Jag and the rest of the fleet. Unless she could kill him first... She had lost Chak for Jag once, she couldn't again. "When shall I arrive?" 

"Jaina!" Mara exclaimed, trying to knock the device off her lap. She was met by a solid Force wall, holding her back. 

"Whenever you wish," the Vong said.

Jaina cut the connection and dropped the Force wall. "You cannot be serious," Mara snarled. "There is no way in all nine Corellian hells that I'm letting you leave this newborn to go throw your life away."

Jaina stood, wincing at the uncomfortable motion. "I'm going to get Chak back, and we're coming back safely."

"No, you're not listening to me," Mara snapped. "I will cut the power cables to every damn ship in this Star Destroyer before I let you go."

It was at that moment that Jacen and Danni chose to make their entrance. Immediately they sensed the tension radiating between the two women. "What's wrong?" Jacen asked.

"Jaina wants to go on a suicide mission into the Yuuzhan Vong flagship!"

"They have Chak!" Jaina explained. "I have to get him back, and none of you can stop me."

It was silent for a long tense moment, then Jacen said, "Jaina's right. We have to get him back. But I'll go."

"Jacen, no—" Danni pleaded.

"I have to," he shrugged her off. "I can't let Jaina go like this. She's my sister, Danni."

"I'm coming with you," Jaina said staunchly.

"You just had a baby, Jaina..."

"I don't care. Hanna is safe. For now. But if we don't stop this now, she's not going to be safe for long. This isn't just for Chak, but for Hanna and Jag and everyone I love. I have to kill the Supreme Overlord, Jacen."

The decision came down to Jacen. Jaina knew Mara would object, but if Jacen agreed there was nothing she could do to stop them. She reached out through her twin bond, touching his soul and letting him see her determination and love for her child. He had to let her do this, if only so that she could know she did everything to make the galaxy safe for her baby.

"Okay," he said finally. "But you're not going to do anything. You're just going to talk, and let me handle all the action. Do you understand?" 

"Yes," she said with a rush of relief.

Mara took a deep breath and blew it out. "Then I'm coming too."

Jaina turned to her aunt and took her by the shoulders. "I need you here Mara. I need you here because," she swallowed down a rush of tears, "if I don't come back, I need you to take care of Hanna. A long time ago you made me promise that if you didn't live I would be a mother to Ben. And now I want you to make the same promise. Tell me that my baby will have a mother, whether I come back from this or not."

Mara wiped a solitary tear from her eye and nodded, pulling her niece into an embrace. "I love you Jaina, and Hanna will never be without a mother."

They held each for a long moment, and right before Jaina pulled away she whispered, "And remember to tell Jag that I will always love him." 


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

The comm was blaring wildly, blinking in its insistence to be answered. Jacen didn't need to answer it to know who it was. "Don't answer it," Jaina said softly. "I don't need him trying to talk me out of this, especially now."

Jacen scowled in her direction. "I shouldn't have brought you. You just had a baby. Jag's right to want to talk you out of it. And didn't I tell you to go put yourself in a healing trance until we get there?"

Jaina returned his defiant gaze from the pilot's chair. "I'm afraid you'll turn around if I go to sleep."

Jacen rubbed his eyes in weariness and discouragement. "I promise I won't. You were right, someone needs to take advantage of this access, but I shouldn't have let you come. Hanna needs you, Jag needs you...I shouldn't have let you come." 

Jaina turned to look out the viewport. A tunnel of safety had been made for them between the two sides, a small window both the Republic and the Vong had been instructed to leave open. Jacen piloted them quietly through the wreckage, the only noise the constant beating of the comm. "I bet the first thing Mara did when we left was tell Jag," Jaina said, gesturing to the communication center.

Jacen looked at her sideways. "You should answer him."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I refuse to say goodbye," she said, raising her chin slightly. "I'm coming back, and I don't want to be put in that position." 

"That's a bit selfish, don't you think?"

She shot him a menacing glare. "I'm risking my life for his brother and you have the audacity to call me selfish?"

"There is no such thing as a selfless good deed," he stated flatly. "There are two natures to everything."

"I can't believe that," she said softly.

"Why not? It's true."

"Because then what hope do any of us have?"

Silence reigned once again, the only noise the persistent beeping that Jaina refused to yield to. "Jacen, I want to thank you for coming with me," she said finally.

"I wasn't going to abandon you to this for anything," he returned. "Especially not in your condition. I love you."

She reached over and took his hand. "I love you, too, Jacen. Let's make sure Hanna not only has a mother but an uncle, okay?"

He squeezed her hand and smiled. "You can count on it."

Jag hit the bulkhead with enough force to dent it. His knuckles immediately swelled, but the pain was not a worthy distraction. "I can't believe you let her go," he snarled. 

Mara's eyes were as fiery as his own. "You know her well enough to know when she sets her mind to something no one can stop her. Especially when Jacen's siding with her."

"I'll kill him," he said flatly. "How can he do this?"

"You're wasting your time arguing," Luke interjected. "Go after her!" 

The light clicked on inside Jag's head, and he ran towards the turbolift; stopped, turned back around. "I don't have a ship that could carry us all, and Jaina took the last Imperial model." 

"Take the _Jade Sabre_," Mara offered.

Jag looked shocked. "Really?"

"Go, damn it, go! We'll take care of Hanna."

Jag ran back quickly, hugged them both, and ran back to the hangar.

Jacen proceeded her down the ramp, lightsaber in hand but turned off. Jaina went behind him, slowly, wincing with each step as her traumatized body rebelled against the movement. She wasn't even close to completely healed, but she couldn't change time. This needed to be done now, and so she had to fight as she was. She could only hope it was enough. "We're here to see the Overlord," Jacen announced loudly to the ranks of warriors and workers watching them with a distasteful eye.

One male stepped away from the others and approached the two Jedi. He looked familiar, and Jaina wracked her brain until she realized where she had seen him before. It was the Yuuzhan Vong who had tried to kill her after that first battle in the Ascendancy. "Nom Anor," she breathed, coming to stand beside Jacen.

He smiled wanly through his torn lips. "I see you have not forgotten me. How touching."

She narrowed her eyes at the spy who had almost ruined her. "You tried to kill me."

"Nevertheless, that is all behind us. Shall we go and see the Supreme Overlord?" 

Jacen looped his arm through Jaina's in an attempt to comfort her, restrain her, and help her remain upright. "Of course, lead the way."

Shimrra was the biggest Yuuzhan Vong Jaina had ever seen. He stood taller than a Wookiee, and his head was easily three times the size of her own. He was also more mutilated than anything she had ever seen. His face was barely recognizable as a face, and all of his limbs seemed to be second-hand. He sat upon his coral dias, eyes roving over them both, measuring them up. But it was not his monstrosity that held her gaze, rather the hunkering figure beside him. Chak Fel looked even worse in person.

His eyes were sunken into his skull and surrounded by dark circles. The body that had once held the physique of a fighter pilot had deteriorated into a rack of bones and skin and bruises, accompanied by odd patches of dried blood. He looked horrid, and she could have cried at the sight of him. Whether it was for Chak or Jag or the suffering of all her fellows she didn't know, but he was terrible to behold.

Jacen had not yet let go of her arm, and she hoped he didn't have to. With each passing moment it became harder and harder to stay on her feet, the recent injury of childbirth wearing hard on her. She was starting to wonder if maybe they all hadn't been right to warn her against coming. She would likely be more of a hindrance to Jacen than a help.

"You are the infidel who wishes to trade a life for the one of this creature?" Shimrra boomed, raising a hand towards Chak.

Jaina stepped forward slightly, drawing on the Force to sustain her. "I never said I would trade a life for his."

"But you came. And I demand payment for his freedom."

He was buying time, and they both knew it. He wanted the New Republic distracted just long enough to crush them beneath his heel. They had to make sure that didn't happen. "We will leave here together, alive, and Chak with us," she told him.

Shrimraa stood and a huge amphistaff slithered down his arm and into his hand. A dozen warriors appeared on either side of him, also clad in armor and carrying an array of biological terrors. Jacen ignited his lightsaber and said softly to Jaina, "Kill Shimrra, take Chak and run. I'll take care of the others."

Jaina turned pained eyes to him. "There are too many, Jacen. You can't handle them all."

He gave her a cocky smile that was classically their father's, one that warmed her from the inside out. "You just worry about you. I'll handle me. I love you Jaina."

"I love you too.

"On three."

"One," she said.

"Two," he countered.

"Three."

They both moved, igniting their weapons and charging as one, thinking as one, hearts beating as one. Breathing what was likely their last breaths as one.

Shimrra met her stride for stride, and before she had taken two steps up to his dias he swung, the force of his blow jarring her off her feet, throwing her back to the floor. She backflipped in the air, but didn't land on her feet as she should. It had been months since she had practiced, and even longer since she had studied in truth. Mara had been right. The battle would be won or lost here, and she had let them all down by not preparing for it.

She landed heavily on her left side, and rolled just in time to avoid the downward slash of his staff. Coming to her feet she struck out, slicing upward along his right bicep. The lightsaber bounced off the vonduun crab armor. Cursing, she struck again, this time for his exposed head. This one he blocked, then countered by bringing the staff up in an arch, trying to twist her weapon from her grasp.

She held on, but had to bend backwards almost double at the knees to avoid his following jibe. She flipped back onto her feet and returned to her defensive stance. Her lower abdomen throbbed with the unwanted movement, and she was sure she had torn her stitches as she felt blood trickle down her leg.

He struck for her legs, trying to sweep them from under her. She jumped over them, over his head, swinging as she did so. By a stroke of luck, her blade managed to graze his scalp, burning the tender area and severing the scrap of an ear. He howled in anger, but only retaliated.

The flat of the amphistaff slapped against the left side of her face, drawing blood and knocking her to the ground. Her lightsaber was jarred from her hand, and went skittering across the deck. Before she had time to retrieve it a massive swing came crashing down towards her skull. 

Time slowed, and she became acutely aware of several things at once. First, she remembered a lesson her uncle had taught her many years before. _When the Force is all you have_, he had said, _that's when you realize it was all you ever needed_.

Second, she experienced and almost out-of-body moment with Jacen, where she saw everything through his eyes. She felt the cut along his right thigh that was bleeding much to heavily, the sting as an amphistaff bit into his skin, the crack as a well-placed kick shattered his ankle. But she also saw herself as he saw her, laying helplessly on the deck, awaiting her death. She heard his silent thought, the knowledge that if she acted at a certain moment she might be saved. 

And last, she saw Hanna. She was so small, such a beautiful little wonder. And then she saw her years later, as a young child scampering happily through the trees of some planet, as a young woman in the cockpit of a starfighter, as an adult holding her own children. And as she looked at Hanna with pride, suddenly she looked back, and so much was read from those green eyes. They seemed to say, _Be there to watch me live. Don't leave me now_.

And with a rush she was back in the present, and time was moving normally again. Her death was rushing towards her when she raised a single hand to stop it. The staff bounced off her invisible Force shield, sliding away from her and burying itself in the deck beside her head. With a swift kick Shimrra was knocked from his feet, and before he ever hit the deck she was standing over him. She plucked the discarded amphistaff from the deck, and flicking her wrist in an easy, deft motion she plunged it solidly through his windpipe, all the way through to the coral deck, nailing him to the floor of his own throne room.

She didn't waste another thought on him, but instead retrieved her lightsaber and ran to where Jacen was still battling it out with the other Yuuzhan Vong. Numerous bodies lay scattered around him, and from their perspective he looked impenetrable. But Jaina could feel him waning, sense the slow leaking of his life energy.

She started to ignite her weapon and join him, but suddenly the air was knocked from her lungs by an unexpected punch. It sent jolts of pain to her injured loins, and she doubled over with the remembered wound. Another attack was launched at her head, cracking over the back of her skull and driving her to her knees. She couldn't move, was paralyzed by the trauma. It was too much, she was too weak. She had nothing left to defend herself.

"I have worked for decades to get to where I am now," a voice hissed behind her, but she barely listened. She delved deep inside herself, touching the wellspring of the Living Force, the pulsing veins of energy that seemed to call to her. It would all be over soon, no more suffering, no more pain. Only the Force. "And I will not let you take it all from me," the voice continued.

As welcoming and inviting as it was, she wasn't ready to die. She wanted to kiss Jag just one more time, to hold Hanna in her arms. There was so much she hadn't done yet, a thousand dreams she hadn't achieved. But there seemed no hope. Her limbs were mutinous, unwilling to move for her. She closed her eyes and reached out to the only entity that had never deserted her, had never let her down. _It's all you ever needed_. 

It was like the Force took possession of her body, shoved her spirit out of the way and filled her with unimaginable light. Her body suddenly worked and moved of its own accord, and she couldn't have stopped it if she wanted. Her fingers twitched, and she lightsaber in her hand leaped to life. She bent at the waist, swinging around just as an amphistaff passed through the air where her head had just been. She twisted around in one smooth motion, burying her lightsaber deep into the shoulder of her attacker.

Nom Anor stumbled backwards off her blade, clutched the wound in pain and surprise. But instead of attacking he ran, leaving the battle in a flurry of blood and robes. Jaina let him go.

The energy quickly left her, leaving her a puddle of uselessness again. But she had a drive now, her purpose reinstated. With slow, agonizing movements she crawled to where her brother-in-law lay across the coral deck. His eyes didn't register as he saw her, and pity swelled inside her. She reached out to him with the Force, trying to touch the spirit inside. He was hollow, devoid of self, no memories, no emotions. He just existed. Tears leaking out the corners of her eyes, Jaina forced her atrophied body to move, to haul him into a sitting position. "Can you walk?" she asked helplessly.

His pale eyes rolled to look at her, uncomprehending. Driving pain stabbed at her with every motion, but she came into a crouch, took him by the arm, and pulled him into a standing position. He was strong enough to stand, but she had to lead him. It was when she turned around that she remembered Jacen.

He was propped against the opposite wall, bloodied and beaten, but alive, which was more than she could say for his opponents. The gruesome scene was worse than some land battles she had seen, and to think her twin had done it all was unfathomable. She could sense his pain like her own, and she swallowed down the urge to vomit. "Jacen," she said, her own voice hoarse, "Jacen, we have to get out of here."

He nodded weakly and attempted to stand. He staggered over to Jaina and Chak, helping Jaina lead the older man out of the throne room and back towards their ship which had probably been long destroyed.

Mara held Hanna in her arms, watching out the viewport on the _Roughshod_'s bridge anxiously. Luke paced behind her, holding Ben close to his chest. "They're in pain," he said finally, stopping.

"I know," Mara said. "There's nothing we can do. At least they aren't dead yet." Mara understood her husband's anxiety. She loved Jacen and Jaina, but to Luke they were like his children. He had raised them when no one else would, had been a father to them in every sense of the word except biologically. They were as dear to him as Ben, and she wondered if he would be able to go on if they didn't make it.

"Sir, an entire fleet just entered the system!" an officer yelled to Captain Onan.

"Friendly or enemy?" Onan asked anxiously. 

"Friendly!"

Mara and Luke exchanged a hopeful glance, just as a familiar voice crackled over the comm. "Uncle Luke?"

"Anakin!" Luke said, diving for the comm officer's station. "Anakin, you did it!"

"This is Admiral Pellaeon, reporting for duty," another voice broke in. A chain of ranking New Republic and Imperial officers called out their presence and request to assist.

Onan, lacking experience in what to do in such an occasion, turned to Luke. Luke smiled and said into the speaker, "All galactic officers, commence the attack. Don't stop until every Yuuzhan Vong ship has been swallowed by the Maw."

"Luke," Mara said, "Jacen and Jaina are still in the frigate."

Luke nodded slowly, letting her know he already understood. "We'll just have to trust Jag to get them out in time."

The way the Yuuzhan Vong ship shook and rumbled Jaina supposed the battle outside had started up again. The warriors in the frigate must have been told of their leaders purpose in bringing the Jedi there, because they all ran past without giving them another thought, as if they were meant to be there. 

Chak had lost the will to move perhaps halfway there, and Jacen and Jaina had resorted to dragging him. His bare shins scuffed the rough floor, leaving a small trail of blood, but the twins had no other option. They themselves were quickly running out of time. 

When they finally reached the hangar, both could have collapsed in despair. Their ship was gone, destroyed as a metal abomination. They had no way out. "What are we going to do?" Jaina asked, pained.

"Jaina," Jacen said very softly, "I need a medic. I...those amphistaffs bit me. I can feel the poison..." 

Jaina gripped his hand tightly in her own. "We'll get you out of here. Somehow." She started to drag Chak further into the hangar.

"Where are you going?" Jacen asked.

"To steal on of their ships," she said, as if he should have known. 

Neither of them said another word, because a terrible screeching of engines and ripping of the hull screamed through the ship. Both of them resisted the urge to drop Chak and cover their ears, but Jaina did close her eyes. When she opened them the _Jade Sabre_ was landing gracefully into the coral deck, having entered through the open bay. Jaina reached out to her aunt and uncle, but instead found Jag aboard. Tears of relief and joy and exhaustion poured down her face and she shuffled as quickly as possible across the floor, helping Jacen drag their defenseless comrade with them. 

The hatch to the _Sabre_ lowered, and Jag came bounding down, Charric in hand. His eyes settled on Jaina, and in a heartbeat she was wrapped in his embrace, being lifted off the ground in his joy. "You're alive," he breathed, as if he couldn't believe it. But when he pulled away his eyes were reprimanding. "How could you do such a thing? To me, to Hanna, to everyone?"

She buried her face in his chest and cried. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

But he wasn't listening any more. His eyes were fixed on his brother, the kin he had thought he had lost almost three years ago. He moved away from her, kneeling beside the man who had always been his hero. "Chak," he said quietly, choking on the words as they cracked in his throat with emotion. "Chak, it's me. Jag. Do you remember?"

Jaina laid a hand on his shoulder, but kept her eyes on her brother-in-law. The coral implants running along the ridge of his spine were painful looking, sprouting from his skin like a tumor; and eating away the person he had once been. "Jag, he doesn't understand."

He stood, swallowing hard, but refusing to look away. "Is he going to die?"

"No," she promised. "No, none of us are going to die, not in this war. He's coming home with us." The emptiness of the words were not lost on her. They had no home.

Jag lifted his brother from the ground and carried him into the ship, while Jaina helped Jacen up the ramp. His skin was a terrible gray color, and she was growing afraid for his life. "Just hold on, Jacen," she whispered, leading him to the small medical wing of the light freighter. She laid him on one of the two bunks, across from Chak. Jag was hurrying to ready the medical facilities, but she stopped him with a hand. "Go, get us out of here. I'll take care of them."

He nodded, but before leaving kissed her fiercely. She returned it with what strength she had left, then shoved him in the direction of the cockpit. She turned to Jacen first, sensing his situation was more dire. She eased him into a healing trance, then searched the medicine cabinets for one of the antidotes Cilghal had come up with while searching for one for Mara. She found a generic one that should suit most poison injections, then hooked him up to and IV, pumping the fluid into his veins.

Next she went to Chak. Where to begin with him? He needed everything. First she hooked him up to an IV full of essential vitamins and nutritious elements to promote healing. Then she slathered him with bacta patches and set his numerous breaks. She was no medic, but it would do until they got back to the _Roughshod_ with Cilghal.

It was only then that she rested herself. She laid down on the bunk beside Jacen, curling against her twin's side. She would never be able to thank him for what he had done for her that day. Closing her eyes, she fell into the rhythm of the Force, letting it's healing hands cover her in sleep.

Under better conditions, Jag would not have been able to resist joining the final fight. But the mother of his child, her brother, and his own brother were in desperate need of medical attention, and so he stayed as far away from the skirmish as possible. A ship such as the _Sabre_ begged to be pushed to its limits, but Jag knew better. Mara wouldn't stand for an extra scratch.

So he watched as he followed the perimeter of the fight, circling back to the _Roughshod_. Things were going remarkably well. Ship after ship were being sucked into the compression of the black hole cluster, destroying their enemies by the thousand in just an instant. It seemed almost like cheating, but after all he and his loved ones had been through Jag didn't care. He just wanted the war to be over.

It wasn't until he reached the welcoming bay of the _Roughshod_ and watched the Supreme Overlord's flagship disappear into nothingness that he tore his eyes from the death of the greatest threat the galaxy had ever seen. 


	49. EPILOGUE

**Epilogue**

Leia Organa Solo looked in wonderment at the small bundle in her arms. Hanna Fel looked much different than any child of her own, bearing an exact resemblance to her father, but such things could be overlooked. She was beautiful anyway. "So you picked a dress, I'm guessing?" 

Jaina Solo-Fel smiled as she stepped into the plush Coruscanti apartment. The New Republic had made a swift and tidy recapture of their capital, and it was returned in mostly the same condition. The entire galaxy had been under clean-up for two months, and Coruscant had been the first planet deemed ready for its citizens to return.

Such a momentous occasion has needed a celebration, and Leia had thought it a splendid idea to make it the wedding she had always dreamed Jaina would have. Knowing Jaina and Jag would object to such a huge affair, she had announced it without their consent over a live Holonet broadcast, an so the two had really not had much of a choice. But after the process began, Leia thought that they secretly enjoyed it.

"Yes. I'm having it fitted today. I just dropped by to give you the bill, I'm on the way to the MedCenter. Cilghal and that huge entourage of healers have finally come to a consensus on Chak's prognosis," Jaina explained.

"Fine, I'll pay it right away. How is Jag handling everything?"

Jaina looked hesitant to divulge the information. "We're trying to be optimistic, but we really won't know if he'll ever recover until this evening."

Leia had been talking about the wedding, but to keep from appearing as if she wasn't listening she just smiled and said, "I'm sure he'll be fine. It's too bad Syal and Soontir won't be able to see the wedding."

Jaina shrugged. "The Chiss are still kind of holding a grudge against the two of us. They wouldn't be very receptive to Jag's parents coming. I'm surprised it holds Syal back, but I guess Soontir talked her into it. He's good at that."

Leia handed her granddaughter, who was starting to wriggle in her grasp, back to Jaina. "We'll need a decision on the caterer by this afternoon."

"I told you that we don't care. Just hire someone," Jaina said, setting Hanna on her hip. He small child busied herself by tugging playfully on a strand of Jaina's hair. "We have to go."

"Okay," Leia said, more than happy to oblige. "Make sure and tell me when you decide on a wedding march, too."

Jaina saluted facetiously as she hurried back out the door.

"Look who it is," Jaina said in a playfully simple voice. "Who is that? Is that Daddy?"

Hanna smiled her toothless smile, reaching for Jag and opening and closing her hands. Jag smiled warmly and took her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "Hello, my little princess. Did you miss me?" Instead of using words she laughed happily, clapping her chubby hands on either side of his face. "I'll take that as a yes," he smiled.

"Well, _I_ missed you," Jaina said with a smile, sliding under his other arm. He kissed her lightly, but she felt the deep emotion just underneath the surface, a promise for a better greeting later on.

"I missed you too," he replied. "How did things go on your little shopping excursion?"

"I found a dress," she said. "It's being fitted right now."

"Wonderful, maybe Leia will bump this thing up a few days and we can get it over with."

Jaina grinned knowingly and said, "But we're on a schedule, remember, everything has to be picked out and ordered in three days. _Three days_!"

Jag laughed at her mimicking. "She's driving you crazy with this, isn't she?"

Jaina waved him off. "I'll live. At least she's letting me have some choice in the matter. I was afraid the only thing I would get to do was show up."

"Jag, Jaina," a voice interrupted. They both turned to see Cilghal standing in the doorway, her group of fellow physicians close behind. 

Jag, growing serious, handed Hanna back to her mother. "Can we see him?"

"Yes, come on in."

The three stepped into the room where Chak lay, stretched out along the medical cot. He had not returned to consciousness since they had recovered him, but Jaina and Jag both absolved to maintain a hopeful outlook. "What have you decided?" Jag asked anxiously.

"Well," the Jedi healer began, flipping through her records, "we believe there is considerable reason to believe this a temporary comatose state. His body has shut down temporarily so that it can absorb all the nutrients we have given him, and to help him return to a healthy state. Once he reaches that place we believe he will wake up with fully functional systems."

"And then?" Jaina asked, shifting her grip on Hanna. The baby squirmed as if to jump straight from her arms, and it took all her strength to wrestle her back into a safe position.

Cilghal's aquatic face looked hesitant. "This is the part you may not be pleased with. According to all the studies we have done on his brain patterns, we have every reason to think all of his memory has been erased."

"_Everything_?" Jag asked, incredulous.

"Everything. The galaxy will be completely new to him, just like Hanna. He will have to learn to walk and talk and feed himself, and go the refresher..."

Jag rubbed his eyes wearily. "As far as brain functioning goes...will he be normal?"

Cilghal inclined her bulbous head. "He will have the exact brain capacity for intelligence and the same rate of learning as before. He will just have to learn life all over again."

"Will it take as long as if he was an infant?" Jaina asked. Hanna was handful enough and she wasn't a tenth of his size.

"No, he already has the mental capability and body of an adult. He will catch on quickly. Within two years, I would say he should be ready to live independently like someone of his own age. Of course, there will always be irregularities and things he will adjust differently to. He will never be _completely_ normal."

Jaina ran a hand over her husband's arm comfortingly. This couldn't be easy to hear. Then again, things could have been a lot worse. "Okay," Jag said finally. "What do you recommend?"

Cilghal flipped through her files again. "I'm referring you to a Dr. Ismene Banks. She's a specialist in amnesia and memory recovery. She has a wonderful installation here on Coruscant that he can stay in until he has enough of his facilities to come home with you all."

"Here on Coruscant?" Jaina squeaked. "But we were on making Bastion our permanent home."

Cilghal shrugged. "In my professional opinion, this is where Chak needs to be. What you all decide after that is up to you."

Jaina turned to Jag, taking his hand briefly in her free one. "We'll talk to Pellaeon. I'm sure he can work something out, now that the war's over. And we can be near my family now, too."

He squeezed her hand back and smiled in agreement. "Thank you." Then to Cilghal, "And thank you all. Give him whatever he needs, and if anything changes just let us know."

The sound of rustling sheets woke her, even though sleep hadn't come easily anyway. She turned over and reached for Jag, but he was gone. Sighing, she threw off the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, looking around. The light was off in the 'fresher, so there was only one logical place he could be.

Jaina stood, pulling on her robe, and padded out of the room and down the hall to the nursery. Inside was Jag standing near the window, Hanna in his arms. She sucked vigorously at a bottle of formula, her appetite at this time of night always voracious. 

She leaned against the door facing, just watching them. There couldn't have been a sweeter sight. Right there in the middle of that room stood her heart and soul. Her love belonged to them, and it always would. Feeling uncharacteristically sentimental, she padded softly into the room until she stood a few feet behind him. 

Sometimes she wondered if he didn't have as much Jedi skill as herself. He sensed her immediately, turning to through her a fleeting smile. "She was crying," he explained in hushed tones. 

Jaina wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his broad shoulder. "It was my turn. You should have told me."

"You need your strength for tomorrow."

Jaina closed her eyes, forcing herself into somewhat of a calm. "You have to be as nervous as me. All those Holonet reporters, and people we don't know..."

"But I have the feeling Leia will make it a little harder on you than me," he explained, setting Hanna—who had fallen back asleep—back into her crib. After watching her sleep for a few second he turned back to Jaina, pulling her into his arms. "No one will look at me after they see you, anyway."

She laughed gently, burying her face against his chest. "Let's just forget about all of them."

Jag looked excited at her suggestion. "You mean we aren't going?"

"No," she said a bit wistfully. "I mean let's just forget anyone else is there. Just you and me. Let it be about us, and nothing else."

He kissed her softly, the sweet taste of his lips making a thrill run along her spine. "It's always been just us, baby. And it always will be."

Jacen pulled the squirming Hanna onto his shoulder, hoping against hope she wouldn't start crying. The service was going to start any minute. Hanna bowed backwards, squealing shrilling in her attempt to get down where she could play. "Come on, Hanna," Jacen pleaded quietly, pulling her securely back onto his lap. "Just a few more minutes and this will all be over."

"Da," she said, reaching out towards the slightly raised platform where Jag waited. It was covered in flowers and lace and ribbons, an elaborate, breathtaking panorama that Leia had put together. And it swarmed with guests and Holonet reporters, so much so that the actual ceremonial area had to be roped off to keep them from heckling Jag before it all began.

Jacen smiled, pointing to Jag. "Yes, that's Daddy up there. Can you wave?"

Hanna flapped both arms and laughed eagerly. "Da!" 

Jag caught sight of them, and for a moment his sabaac face slipped. He smiled and gave the slightest of waves in her direction. Giggling, Hanna leaned back against Jacen and waited.

"I'm not late, am I?" a voice said to his left.

Jacen smiled and turned. "No, it hasn't started yet."

Danni sat down exhaustedly, her blond curls tussled and pinned messily to the top of her head. A pale blue dress clung tantalizingly to her skin, making Jacen's thoughts stray dangerously. "You look beautiful." 

"Thank you," she said, blushing slightly. Sighting Hanna she said, "But not as pretty as this one."

Hanna just smiled her toothless smile, the one that tugged irresistibly at your heartstrings. "It would be hard to top her, that's true," Jacen agreed. "But if anyone can do it, it would be you."

She smacked his arm in mock reproach. "Watch your tongue! This is your sister's wedding after all."

The music started suddenly. Everyone stood, and as the music wafted through the crowd of thousands Jaina appeared at the end of a long white carpet. She was stunning, the white dress clinging to her petite from from her uncovered shoulders to her hips, then flaring into a mass of silk that barely brushed the floor.

The clicked of photographers' instruments almost droned out the music, but Jaina was the epitome of calm. Her eyes remained fixed directly ahead, to where Jag stood. Jacen felt a swelling of pride as she passed. She had been through things that no teenager ever should. But she had faced it with the courage and wisdom of someone three times her age, and he could only hope to one day be the kind of person she was.

Jag stepped forward and pulled her hand into the crook of his arm, smiling. She returned his grin, never breaking eye contact.

That was the kind of love he wanted. Or did he already have it? He turned to look down at Danni, her halo of curls a crown of glory. At for a moment, he thought he loved her. As if sensing his gaze she looked up at him and smiled. She slid a little closer to his side, her shoulder just coming under his arm. With one hand cradling his niece, he took the other and wrapped it around her slender waist.

As the ceremony began, all Jacen could think of was how proud he was of Jaina, of them both. Not only had they overcome obstacle after obstacle, but they had managed to turn this day which was so obviously about pomp and circumstance into a private moment revolving around them. Not the flashing of light nor the murmur of guests distracted them, and not once did they look away from each other. 

To have had such a wretched beginning, it was truly a miracle that they had grown to love each other an build a family. Jacen knew there would be equally rough times ahead, but he had no doubt that they would come out of it as strong and as in love as they were right then.


End file.
